A January for Jane, A Seasons of Serendipity Bride
by elizabethann.west.7
Summary: Bonus novella to Seasons of Serendipity series. Jane Bennet finds a man better than Mr. Bingley in Lord Graham Hamilton at Mr. Darcy's estate in Scotland. Exiled there to care for her sister's bastard child with Mr. Wickham, Jane struggles to allow herself a happy future.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This story is a BONUS story in my Seasons of Serendipity novella series. You do not HAVE to read those stories to be able to enjoy this one, I explain previous events that have led to this point. But this story will SPOIL the events in that novella series. So if you do not want to be spoiled, DO NOT READ this. If you cannot purchase the novellas that are published, EMAIL me and I will get you the files, my email address is on my profile. I am always grateful for the support from readers but 100% understand those that can't or won't purchase, I lived that life for over a decade when money was tight. So please, you need or want my stories, email me, I will get them to your hands. :)

Love, Elizabeth Ann West

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Chapter 1

Whips of wind tormented the sparse winter branches of an old birch, conducting a dazzling choreography of sunlight patches merrily across the stone floor. The well-equipped conservatory of Mr. Darcy's Starvet House provided a glorious access to the minimal Scottish sun. Jane Bennet dug her hands deep into the earth-filled pot to loosen the soil. Lifting the surge of soil bubbling to the top, she wiggled her fingers and allowed the crumbles to fall away. Holding up her unladylike filthy hands, a little giggle escaped the happy baby boy that was her nephew and ward.

"Is your Mama becoming dirty?" She wrinkled her nose and asked the rhetorical question of the young man who could barely sit up, let alone talk.

Jane lifted a sprig of rosemary from the seedling tray and planted the herb securely into the pot before adding a bit of water and placing it in the window sill.

Robert Bennet, affectionately called Robin, watched his aunt intently, amused by the warmth of the room, the fresh smell of soil, and the exciting activity of replanting herbs. Mrs. Buchanan entered the greenhouse to speak with Jane as Robin reached down to grab his own handful of dirt. Peering at the dark clump in his tiny fist, the boy did what any baby would and lifted his hand to his mouth for a taste.

"Oh, no, we do not eat the dirt, we use it to grow the good things we can eat." Jane lifted her nephew and dusted his bottom that had grown quite dirty from his time in the conservatory. She held him on her hip, constantly sparring with his little hands that were reaching for her hair and her earrings and her face all at the same time.

"The wee lad has grown to be such an active poppet." Mrs. Buchanan beamed at the happy child, still slightly soft on the boy over the tumultuous manner in which he came into the world. The entire staff of Starvet House, save one dismissed nurse, took a claiming to the boy that was rescued and literally breathed back to life in the very kitchens of the home. His birth mother was not so lucky to survive that terrible night.

Robin let out a little squabble in frustration that he could not reach any of his aims.

"He is, but I believe it is time for his nap." Jane did not hesitate when Mrs. Buchanan reached out to take the boy. Although the young man was very much Jane's to claim, she respected and appreciated that most of the staff joined her in caring for the only connection to her sister, Lydia, that remained in the world.

Jane moved on to repotting the lavender when a handsome fox turned to his side so that Mrs. Buchanan might pass as he leaned against the doorway. Jane's eyes flitted to the door as Robin squawked again, recognizing Lord Graham Hamilton as his playtime caregiver, though once more the boy was denied. A full wail echoed down the hall of a babe unable to handle so many disappointments in such a short period of time.

"He's tired I take it?"

"Exhausted. He's trying ever so hard to learn how to crawl, but thankfully we are safe from that development for the near future." Jane shared a laugh with Graham, then remembering her mission, furiously returned to the herbs she had started as seeds over two months ago.

"You are forever planting . . . I'm beginning to learn if I cannot find you anywhere else to look in the conservatory." Graham sauntered off the step, his over six-foot-frame starkly contrasting with the lower tables and planters of a room designed primarily for female use.

"I like new beginnings." Jane shrugged her shoulders, closely inspecting the hardy lavender stalk before her. "Gardening is full of new starts and happy colors."

"I had come to see if you wish to take tea together." Mr. Hamilton had very lately taken to inviting Jane in a very formal manner for each of their meals. The two began living at Darcy's estate out of necessity. Graham Hamilton, with his own home burning down at the end of last summer the night before Robin's arrival, rejected living at his parents' estate on the premise of freedom and to offer Darcy's sister by marriage a male's protection. Jane had remained so that she might take care of Robert Bennet, the bastard child of George Wickham and Lydia Bennet, without the prying eyes of English society.

"I'm afraid I ate my meal before seeing to my work." Jane was not being honest, but she found herself uncommonly out of sorts around Graham. Her heart rate would increase and she knew herself to be excessively attracted to the man's kind heart and handsome features.

But there was no hope for Jane Bennet to find a husband. No, her heart and soul had to belong to little Robert if the child was to have any hope of surviving.

Mr. Hamilton frowned but did not allow Jane's refusal to stymie his aims. Seeing her finish the lavender pot, he reached forward to lift the clay vessel to Jane's complaints.

"Mr. Hamilton, you really should not –"

"For the hundredth time, Jane, we live together. After nigh on seven months, don't you think you can give it up and call me Graham?" He offered her a sly smile, placing the pot on the windowsill next to the rosemary, then walking back to stand next to her on the opposite side of the workbench. Jane ignored his closer presence, and insistence about their Christian names even though she found his calling her Jane a sign of affection she desperately cherished. But though she enjoyed his attentions, it was a wretched thing for her to raise his hopes, knowing full well she could never accept the suit of a man so long as she wished to keep Robin.

With only one seedling left, Jane accepted another pot from Graham and added a healthy pile of soil into the clay round. A wisp of hair loosened from her bun and she exasperatedly blew out a breath to try to move the offending lock. Ever so gently, Graham reached out with his gloved hands, hands that were heavily damaged in the fire at Blaylock, and tucked the hair behind her ear. Jane had not meant to, but naturally her head leaned into his hand as he cupped her face for a second longer than necessary.

The last few weeks of desire that had been building between the two of them, grown adults with duties and responsibilities, yet a natural attraction, became too much for either to bear. The stocky, rugged Scotsman leaned forward and pressed his lips against Jane's with the wishful thinking of a lovesick suitor. For her part, Jane returned the kiss, remembering just in time that her hands were filthy before she reached out to touch Mr. Hamilton in kind. But remembering the state of her hands broke the spell, and as the kiss ended with Mr. Hamilton keeping his eyes closed and a schoolboy smile across his face, Jane wrung her apron to clean her as she dashed from the conservatory.

Stricken by a wave of panic, her feet could not scurry fast enough to bring her upstairs and to the sanctuary of her room. She had never intended to give in to her feelings. She could not. She must not!

And Graham knew how much the babe meant to her. Did he honestly think she would put him with some tenant family and be the happy wife and mistress of another household?

She passed Mrs. Buchanan in the hall and startled Robert with her sudden presence and loud closing of the door. The boy began to coo as she hastily drenched her hands in the cold water of her wash basin.

A great pounding began to rattle the wooden portal.

"You cannot run from me forever!" Lord Graham Hamilton, second son of the Duke of Haddington, shouted and pounded on the locked door between him and the infuriatingly beautiful Jane Bennet. He tried the door handle again finding it still locked.

"Jane!" he bellowed again.

"Shh, all is well, Robin. Uncle Graham is not upset." Jane scooped up her orphaned nephew and hushed the babe, though to the bewildered boy not yet a year old, there was nothing amiss. He gurgled happily in Jane's arms as the door swung open.

With key in hand, Graham Hamilton leaned against the doorframe with a smirk on his face. Jane swiftly turned away, holding the baby close to her chest and walking towards the window on the far side of the nursery.

"No, I will not let you do this. You have a responsibility to yourself, first and foremost."

"You do not understand, and how could you?" Jane spun around and accused him of simpleness. "He is not your responsibility. He is mine."

"He is ours." Graham Hamilton walked forward and little Robin reached his arms out for the man he recognized as a parent almost as surely as he recognized Jane. "He could be ours. Plus many more."

Jane cast her eyes to the rug, but Graham reached out with his gloved hands and gently clicked his tongue to draw her attention. Leaning forward, to the happy squeals of the baby between them, Graham Hamilton gently kissed the soft lips of Jane Bennet once more.

She did not run as she did before. This time Jane Bennet returned his kiss with greater fervor, allowing herself to drink deeply of the love and respect she had come to feel for the man.

"There. See? Little Robin approves." Graham Hamilton made a face at the boy and poked his belly for the young child's amusement.

"But—"

"Must I kiss your aunt again? Shall I?" Graham interrupted Jane and posed the question to Robin, then deciding the babe had agreed before acting on the imaginary command. He kissed Jane again with all of the passion of a Scotsman enthralled with his bonny lass. Once he broke away, she gasped for breath.

"You know this is not over." Jane ignored his mocking frown, inciting her to elaborate. "You say we might marry and take him as our ward. And how do we explain his lineage?"

"And your excellent plan is to stay hidden in a castle for your whole existence? How will the boy go to school, find a life?"

Jane furrowed her brow but allowed Graham to take the babe from her, gently rocking the boy back to his cradle.

She had many more questions, but each seemed more forward than the last. One does not demand a man propose marriage though Jane could not find a way to frame her inquiries without doing just that. This was all so very improper and not at all how she imagined their moment of understanding.

"Now, then, do you Jane Bennet accept me to be your husband?" He gallantly walked towards her, the roguish charm of the Hamilton line accompanying his bravado. "To live out your days loyal to me and to bestow your love upon me and no other?"

Jane's heart fluttered with the force of a hundred butterflies, but her mind reeled from his words. This was a very odd proposal of marriage, it almost sounded as a vow. She spied Mrs. Buchanan in the doorway just over Graham's shoulder with a peculiar look of anticipation on her face..

"I — that is, I accept your proposal of marriage, Graham Hamilton." Jane's mouth suddenly felt dry to speak such words out loud.

"Gracious heavens! I'll fetch the staff!" Mrs. Buchanan gushed as Jane shook her head and leaned to her side to address the housekeeper directly.

"Fetch the staff? Whatever for?" Jane suddenly felt ill at telling her betrothal to the whole household the second she became so.

"For a ceremony of course! I witnessed this, but we need at least two!" Mrs. Buchanan actually giggled at the prospect of a marriage in the house. It had been generations since the last one.

Jane's mouth opened in shock and then closed once more as she looked to Graham.

"We've lived together for months. In the eyes of the law, we're married as soon as we declare so." He took a step further to pay more romantic attentions to his lass, but Jane stomped her foot to sidestep him.

"Mrs. Buchanan, wait!" Jane nearly tripped trying to maneuver beyond Graham, but he wrapped his arm around her waist to keep her from falling. "We cannot be married this moment! That is just not done!"

"You're in Scotland, Miss. Bennet or shall I say Lady Hamilton?"

"But no," Jane closed her eyes as Graham nuzzled her neck, his hot breath distracting. "I wish to have a church wedding. A proper wedding. The banns!"

Graham chuckled. "I knew your English would come out."

Jane sputtered and laughed when Graham laughed. Mrs. Buchanan watched the couple, suddenly fearful she was about to witness a grand row.

But the watershed of months of pent up attraction was past and there was no chance of either Jane or Graham releasing the other. Not now. The two whispered and leaned into each other in an embrace as Mrs. Buchanan struggled over whether to leave or stay where she was to see the love bloom between the two lovebirds.

"Pardon my interruption, but—shall I gather the staff?"

Jane looked up at Graham and silently implored him with her eyes to relent to her wishes. She felt safe with this man, without doubts from her wayward romantic adventures in England lingering any longer. But she wished time to enjoy being betrothed and then married, no matter what tradition in Scotland held.

"I truly cannot convince you to marry me this day?" Graham laid the guilt on thickly.

Jane bit her lower lip. "My wish is for a proper marriage before God."

Graham sighed, then twisted his face in mock pain as he fully accepted the implications of waiting three long weeks to make Jane his official wife by word and deed.

"Ready tea in the dining room, Miss Bennet and I shall take our meal, Mrs. Buchanan." And not take each other, Graham thought wistfully as he allowed Jane to leave the room first. He glanced down to check on Robin, but the excitement had bored him off to sleep.

A/N This story DOES tackle the ideas of irregular marriage (why couples could elope to Gretna Green in Jane Austen's time) and a proper church marriage. It's going to be a fun, short novella. And yes, I drool over my vision of Graham Hamilton, second son of the Duke of Hamilton, as I write this story. He is burly and YUM! :) As always, I love reviews, and read them all. HUGS to everyone who supported To Capture Mr. Darcy, I always feel "not worthy" of the love and admiration my stories get here. So ya'll are STUCK with me :)

Love,

Elizabeth Ann West


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: THANK YOU! Wow 9 reviews already? All gushing about this story? I confess I have been STUCK trying to write it and I realized that no, I cannot write a story in some darkened corner all by myself. I always say I am the kind of write who would set up a desk in New York's Time Square and gain creative energy from writing LIVE. Moving into my second year of writing and publishing JAFF, I am learning to accept aspects of my process that I can't change. My "Ta Da" need is one of them. Thank you so much for the reviews, they really do rev this writer's creative engine up! Here is another great scene of our lovely couple, and again, if you have NOT read the Seasons of Serendipity and want to, just drop me an email. :) Oh and if you missed Book 5, that's currently on sale everywhere for just 99 cents as it's been nominated Best Fiction in a summer reader festival :)

*****

On the first Sunday of her betrothal, Jane frowned at her reflection in the looking glass. When had her eyes become so sunken and why was the darkish magenta beneath them refusing to dissipate now that she only rose once a night to care for Robert? Pursing her lips, she spotted the deeper creases on her forehead and immediately slackened her face. Breathing a sigh of relief that her porcelain skin did not remain so ghastly wrinkled, she found little to cheer about in her complexion. Long gone was the carefree maiden who danced and dined with only the need for a suitor. Staring back at her was a woman of wisdom and experience, who ran a household and raised a babe not of her own.

Imagining her mother's nervous energies fussing over her loss of bloom, Jane wondered what her mother would think if she knew her daughter had caught the eye of a Duke's son? A muffled cry on the other side of her bedroom door forced Jane to rise from her dressing table and rush to the door. A fussy Robin howled in the maid Alice's arms until Jane took him, but he continued his cries at a reduced frequency.

"I'm sorry, Miss, he did not care for his bath. I tried to warm the water, but he did not want me, no way and no how." Alice dipped into a curtsy.

"Fret not, the boy is gaining his teeth and troublesome for all." As if understanding his aunt's words, Robin pulled her free hand to his mouth to gnaw on her fingers. A razor sharp pierce of her thumb made Jane jerk her hand away. A shocked, momentary silence from Robin was followed by a renewed howl louder than his earlier cries.

Jane dismissed the maid and carried Robin further into her room to shush his cries and attempt to placate the child. Her door remained open and on her third trek across the room, her partner in the babe's parenting surfaced with a solution. Jane pushed 's hand away.

"No, you must be mad!"

He ignored her fussing and smiled at Robin whose cries had diminished at the comforting bass voice of the man he knew best.

"This is a long standing Hamilton tradition. I watched my mother soothe my younger brothers thus." Graham Hamilton dipped his fingers into the glass of amber whiskey he held and offered them to the teething Robin. The boy greedily grabbed the man's thicker fingers just as he had Jane's, not caring a whit about the raisined, purplish skin scarred from last summer's fire. Jane gasped to see Graham's injury, an intimacy she had rarely been afforded.

"Does it —?" Jane gulped as Robin cooed at the strong taste and numbing effects of Mr. Hamilton's fingers refusing to relinquish the man's hand. "Is it painful?"

Graham beamed at the boy. "Ha! Your first taste and in love already. Ye be a Scotsman through and through there, laddie."

Removing his hand to dip once more and give the child a second dose, he looked up at Jane once the boy's brief squabble ended at the return of his medicine. "The pain subsided months ago, but I'm afraid they shall always be misfigured."

"They are not misfigured!" Jane exclaimed, popping her mouth closed at her outburst. When she spoke again, her tone evened. "I think they are very fine hands and they saved so many lives that night . . ."

Graham studied Jane's face, but knew the woman's sincerity and love for him already drove her nearly as mad as he. In fact, he had attempted to broach the subject of marital relations to no avail. Jane Bennet demanded a traditional path to marriage even without the need for chaperone or social inducement such nonsense required.

"We must leave if we are to make services in town. I ordered the carriage or I would have been here sooner to help with the child."

Jane suddenly felt bereft at the idea of leaving Robert alone at home. He could not attend services. Though he had been baptized in the small chapel abutting Starvet House two weeks after the Darcys left, with Jane and Graham standing as godparents, it was too soon for the questions that would surely surface. Officially listed for the Kirk as Robert Wickham, their story that Lydia had been married before George Wickham was killed in London was all the registrar required to save the babe's soul.

The Scottish authorities would think his parents were married in England, and the English authorities would be told they were married in Scotland. And hopefully, there would never be occasion for the truth to come to light.

"But Robin shall—"

"Shall be well-tended and sound asleep." Graham pulled his hands away and Jane looked down to see the baby in her arms calm and serene, indeed ready to drowse while they attended services and began the first week of three for the banns to be read.

"Then we shall go." Jane gave Graham a firm nod as she placed the child into his cradle that no longer resided in the suite between them, but in her own room. While she settled Robin, Graham availed himself of her wash basin.

Watching her charge happy in his swaddling, it dawned on her that after they were married, her sleeping arrangements would change. She whirled around to face Graham.

"After we marry . . ." she began, a blush creeping uncomfortably up her neck. Jane became cross with herself for such a display of anxiety.

"If ye say yes, we need not leave Robin at all. Marry me today. This very moment." He reached out and grasped her hand in his, ungloved with the glass of whiskey behind him on her dressing table.

Jane drew in a sharp breath, searching the man's dark eyes that had held nothing but the deepest affections for her since he helped hand her out from a carriage last summer. He was earnest in his declaration. The scent of lavender from his freshly washed hands, hands that now burned hers with their touch, clouded her mind.

"Today, my dear Jane, we could be through with fighting the strictures of English society . . ." He trailed off as he neared her, leaning in for a kiss, but Jane's eyes widened and she pulled back.

"Please. I cannot suffer further temptation." She licked her lips and hesitated. "Say you will stand with me, Mr. Graham Hamilton, before the congregation in Haddington three Mondays from now and become my husband."

Graham howled at the twist of a proposal. "Do I tempt ye, lassie?" He winked as she pursed her lips at his cheekiness. Quickly, he leaned forward and pecked those impish lips that taunted him thus.

"I gave you a direct question, milord." Jane blinked in expectation. He groaned.

"Now, none of this milord business. I won't have it."

Feeling bold, Jane took a step and turned so that her back was to him and he naturally pulled her into a nuzzling embrace.

"Well if ye do not join me for church," she mocked him in a horrible Scottish brogue, "there'll be much more ye won't have."

Jane ducked, an unexpected move on her part that surprised Graham. He found himself unable to block her escape and she rose, scampering out of his reach.

Giggling at her tease, Jane Bennet spun around once more in the doorway, feeling lighter than her twenty-three years of age. She blew a kiss in the direction of both Robin and Graham before dashing out and down the stairs.

Lord Graham Hamilton, Earl of Bolton, Baron Tweeddale, did not rush after his Jane. Instead, he very calmly retrieved his sealskin gloves from his sporran. His eyes flicked to the boy he would take as his ward just as soon as he endured the trial of winning his aunt. Once more, the child fell asleep and Graham was about to share a private thought with the lad when the maid, Millie, suddenly entered Jane's room.

"Oh, I beg your pardon, milord." The maid curtsied and bowed her head.

Realizing he was hopelessly outnumbered and that the staff doted on Jane, he could only nod and leave the room to meet the woman vexing him most at the carriage. He could have sworn the maid stifled a giggle as he exited, confirmation Miss Bennet had instructed her to change his preferred address of _sir_. He allowed his frustration from their impasse over when to wed to manifest in his swift jog down the steps, finding himself in a better mood by the time he reached the massive oak doors of Starvet House.

But there was no Jane.

Bewildered, he looked around, but Mr. Harper, the butler advised the frequent visitor and long-term guest.

"She is waiting in the carriage, milord." Harper stood stiffly after the announcement, opening the door for the man to brave the winter chill in order to attend services in the village. Starvet House held services in the chapel for the staff, but to fulfill the demand of the Kirk, to Haddington they'd go.

"Not you, too."

"Milord?" Harper asked, genuinely confused. Miss Bennet had said to address Mr. Hamilton by his proper title out of courtesy.

"Never mind. Miss Bennet and I are experiencing a difference of opinion," he said tersely through clenched teeth as the bitter cold brushed against his stockinged legs.

"I'm terribly sorry to hear it, milord."

Before he began to yell at the butler for a taunt not of his making, Lord Hamilton stormed out of the home towards the waiting carriage. He yanked open the door, growling for the footman to leave him be, and stepped firmly up to launch himself into the vehicle.

"How wonderful," Jane's cheeks appeared most fetching with a pinkish glow as she sat wrapped in a coat of the finest fur. "I shall have a husband after all!"

Mr. Hamilton slammed the carriage door shut and took a seat across from his adversary, understanding now Darcy's warning that one does not woo a Bennet woman, one must win her.

*****

I LOVE IT! To share a bit about how the writing process goes, I thought this scene was utter crap when I wrote it, that I wasn't showing enough, but now when I reread it before posting it here, I got the smile... I hope it brought you all smiles too!

Oh, and someone asked in review about the plans for Seasons . . . That series has ALWAYS been planned as 20 books, from Day 1. I wanted to sit down and pen a book version of Downton Abbey, with the high drama, big cast of characters, etc. So yes, there will be a Book 6, 7 ,8, 9, 10 ... and this is the first of the bonus stories that don't star D&E at all and each remaining sister will get one, Jane, Mary, Georgiana, Kitty. However, Mary's isn't until later in Year 2, and Georgi's takes place in Year 3 and Kitty's Year 4. :)


	3. Chapter 3

The church bells tolled in jubilation to celebrate the first announcement of a wedding between His Grace's son, Lord Graham Hamilton and Miss Jane Bennet of Hertfordshire. A boisterous congregation spilled into the churchyard for mingling and discussion in groups to dissect the known gossip swirling around the young couple. Graham stood speaking with Dr. Simpson and Jane felt lonely to realize she knew no one in the town save Starvet House staff due to her self-imposed exile.

Just as Jane Bennet was about to walk towards the shared carriage with Mr. Hamilton, a bright-faced young woman approached. Jane automatically bowed her head and slightly curtsied to the woman, eliciting a youthful giggle from Emily Stevens.

"Forgive me for being so forward, Miss Bennet, but I felt it my Christian duty to extend to you a friendship. I am Emily Stevens, and I met your sister, Mrs. Darcy, last summer when they came into my sundry shop in the village."

Jane shyly smiled, but remembered her manners. "It is a pleasure to meet you Miss Stevens. I'm afraid my sister and her husband are gone home to England. I have perhaps spent far too much time left to my own devices than would be wise." Jane tittered lightly at her own joke, expecting the woman to join her but she did not. Instead, Jane's tease fell flat.

With an air of confidence, Emily turned her face towards the small grouping of men congratulating Lord Hamilton. "After the fire at Blaylock, we were under the impression you were not left entirely all alone…"

A gust of wind nearly tore Jane's bonnet from her head as she hurried to hold her covering with her hand. Miss Steven's auburn locks blew freely in the wind, as only her top layers of hair were fastened in a tight bun.

"Indeed, I was lucky to have companionship. Lord Hamilton, as a particular friend of my sister's husband, needed a place to live after the fire. One might call it a Christian duty." Jane began to enjoy the conversation with the shopkeeping woman less and less as her forward manner was in fact slightly offensive to Jane's sensibilities.

Emily looked down at the basket in her hands and changed the positioning of the handle to her other arm. "It was a surprise to hear Parson Michaels announce you intend to be married to his Lordship. It is magnanimous of him to help you raise a child of questionable origin –"

"Child of questionable origin?" Jane no longer mildly disliked this woman, but fully disliked the nosy inquiries into her household. Still, part of her mind understood how irresistible gossip became in a small hamlet such as Haddington. Starvet House and Blaylock were the largest estates in the area, save for the ducal seat some dozen miles past the ruins of Blaylock.

The shopkeeper leaned forward to offer Jane a conspiratorial kinship. "Fear not, most of the ladies in town do not know about the babe. My friend, Betty Gillam, is sister to Sarah, the woman you dismissed last year."

Jane clenched her fists, an extremely unladylike action, then shifted them behind her back so as not to show her anger. "Did that servant girl tell you she practically starved the child I have taken as my ward?"

"Your ward? But I thought –"

"I can appreciate exactly what you thought, Miss Stevens. But I assure you, I arrived in Scotland with the same waistline I hold now."

"So the child be Lord Hamilton's bastard . . ." Emily Stevens pronounced her reckoning and looked afar once more at the grouping of men beginning to disperse. Lord Hamilton's kilt pressed tightly against his strong thighs as he began to walk into the wind towards his Jane. The sight was one easily appreciated by any lady, and thus infuriating to Jane he be exposed in such a manner.

"The child is not Lord Hamilton's though we do intend to raise him as our own once we are married. As to who the child belongs to, the answer is quite simple and far less interesting than idle gossip. My sister's husband was a soldier and he unfortunately lost his life shortly after they married. When Mr. Darcy and Mrs. Darcy brought Lydia to Scotland for her laying in, is was the Lord's will the child survive, but not my sister." Jane finished her speech, satisfied to see a slackened expression of shame on Miss Stevens' face.

"Miss Stevens, this morning was a hearty message, was it not, about accepting our neighbors?" Lord Hamilton addressed the young woman he had known since childhood, having attended her father's shop on many occasions with Fitzwilliam when they were lads.

"Yes, milord. Hearty message indeed." Miss Stevens curtsied and excused herself from the happy couple as Lord Hamilton escorted Jane towards the carriage.

So angry with the wagging tongues and bold Scottish manners, Jane scarcely made eye contact with Graham as she accepted his hand for assistance into their conveyance. The warm bricks had long since cooled from their departure at Starvet House so instead of sitting across from her, Graham Hamilton took a seat on the same bench as Jane so that his proximity might help keep her from feeling chilled. The Darcy carriage was one of the first to roll away from the small abbey in Haddington proper.

Graham allowed the silence to carry them halfway through the trek back to the great house. Once they turned from the main road to the smaller lane leading only to Darcy's property, he spoke.

"I suspect ye encountered the same astonishment I experienced from old Parson Michaels." Graham rightly assumed Miss Stevens had put Jane through a similar ordeal as his own. But instead of answering, Jane Bennet continued to stare out the window at the passing landscape, lost in her own thoughts.

Graham tried once more. "You have to understand, a Scotsman be not like an Englishman. A man and woman living as we have are expected to be bound to each other and none other. The tradition of marriage with the sacrament of our Lord is far older on our lands then these buildings of administration and registrars." Graham again tried to convince Jane as she was more than a half year's resident of the country she may as well accept and abide by the local traditions of matrimony.

Without looking at Graham, because she scarcely trusted herself not to dissemble fully in front of him, Jane sighed before licking her lips to speak. "Miss Stevens apprised me of the intelligence that the entire village knows of Robin and has assumed him to be either my bastard or yours."

Graham Hamilton shrugged beside Jane, a movement that attracted her attention and sharp jerk of her head in his direction. "Walking into that church this morning to have the banns read made me a fool in front of the entire village!"

Graham laughed and patted Jane's gloved hand with his own. "I tried to tell ye, lass. But would you listen? A dismissed servant spreads the wildest tales when there's no hope of a letter of recommendation."

Jane pouted as she considered his statement. Even when she lived at Longbourn her mother was keen to keep the servants loyal. Graham continued his explanation and ruined Jane's conciliatory mood.

"I've known for months the villagers thought I had taken ye as a mistress and got a bairn off ye. Why some even thought ye are my brother's responsibility."

Jane's mouth dropped in an expression of pure horror. "Why ever would the villagers suspect the worst of me and of you? By what reputation do they have the right to spread their lies without even so much as a shred of proof?"

Graham looked out the window to his left and certainly wished the carriage was much further along on its journey to Starvet House, but they were still more than a few moments away. He needed to come clean with Jane about his family's legacy since Amelia died, but approaching such matters in a carriage seemed hardly appropriate. So he stalled.

"I cannot claim to know every individual's motivation for blackening our names, but I suspect it was inevitable with the loss of the maid, the living conditions due to the fire, and my stubborn desire to remain close to you all these many months should you ever need me." Graham's voice became softer with the last line, Jane sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder.

"I have been little else but harsh toward your months of gentlemanly conduct in not only my regard, but that of Robin's."

Jane tilted her head up and turned so she might see Graham's face. For his part, the man shifted in his seat slightly so he might gaze down upon Jane. "I dearly love you, Graham Hamilton. I find you to be stalwart of character I have never once encountered before in my life."

The compliment from his lady was more than enough to stir the passions of a Hamilton man. Graham's hands easily lifted Jane up from her seat to her squeal and deposited the woman to sit crossways across his lap. Though shocked at such an intimacy, Jane did not scramble to remove herself. The tensing of her bones relaxed as he did not force further contact. Besides, between them lay half a dozen layers of clothing and furs due to the raw chill of the climate.

Graham wrapped his arms around Jane and squeezed her tightly, though the sensation became dulled by their winter attire. Sadly, the carriage rolled to a gentle stop outside Starvet House affording Graham and Jane merely a brief kiss before he reluctantly returned her to her own seat on his right. As he exited the carriage first, he happily turned to help Jane.

Her face bright and slightly flushed from her anger and then the romantic moment with Graham, she locked eyes on the handsome Scotsman just as she had done the first time she arrived last summer.

Graham held his breath as he allowed his imagination to take possession of how, in just three short weeks, he would have the right to carry his lovely lady over the threshold and claim her as his own. The happy thought dissolved quickly to one of frustration as the independent man suddenly felt ashamed he was not in a position to offer this woman even a single room suitable to inhabit that was his own. While marrying Jane was his first aim, the new conflict in his heart over a lack of domestic security became his next.

*******

A/N: Don't you just hate it when HE'S right, ladies? ;) ;) I am getting along in this story and can't wait to start writing Spring 2 A Spring Society. :) I love reading all of the reviews! Thank you SOOOO much!

XOXOX  
Elizabeth Ann West


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Even though I write clean romances, I love, love, love to make that heat and tension simmer! :) One of the inspiration songs for this story is "Pillowtalk," which really helps me to write characters that are ::this:: close to just breaking free. But, no, decorum and propriety. :) :)

*****

Jane picked nervously at the bottom rim of her wine glass with her fingernail, making a barely perceptible tinkling noise that satisfied her anxieties. She had spent the afternoon comforting Robin in his teething pain. Graham had surprisingly stayed away in the study for the large majority of the day. It was not abnormal for the two of them to see very little of each other even though they shared a home. But since the formal betrothal, she had not experienced a day of largely separate activities, making her now worry.

For months, Jane had become an expert in keeping her schedule in such a way that Mr. Hamilton would not find need to accompany her in the mundane tasks of her role. And before he stormed into her bedroom to offer they wed right away, her suite of rooms was a sanctuary for her own amusements and entertainments, usually in the company of her nephew.

But the man across from her shifted nervously in his seat, and Jane's mind naturally began to conjure a litany of reasons for him to suddenly wish to call off their betrothal. This did not make logical sense, but men and women in the throes of Cupid's passions rarely relied upon such common methods as reason and logic to dictate their behavior. The silence in the dining room escalated Jane's fears to the point of her legitimately worrying she was about to lose the only man she would indeed throw caution to the wind for and have jumped into a carriage racing for Gretna Green, no better than than a lovesick maiden. Realizing what that signified, she drew in a breath and held it.

Within a moment, she was prepared to blurt out she would marry him that evening and they would spend this night and every night thereafter as husband and wife, her English notions of decorum be damned!

Graham cleared his throat to signal he wished to speak before Jane gathered up the courage to claim her Scotsman.

"There has been a change in my plans for our betrothal . . . and I am anticipating you will be in agreement."

A hollow ripple a despair fell within her heart, resonating in her lower stomach as Jane's worst fear appeared to be coming true. She opened her mouth to speak,yet the strong woman she had relied upon for so much in the year and quarter since she had lost her father utterly failed her by refusing to surface. Graham waited patiently during her silence.

Footmen began carrying in delicate porcelain vessels of stewed meats, vegetables, and a healthy portion of bread. The rustic fare Starvet House ordinarily offered Jane a much more palatable dining experience than the fussy plates of London and high society. And though she had been hungry before, she allowed her plate to be served with food she knew was unlikely to be eaten as with her courage, so had gone her appetite.

"I shall leave on the morrow to Edinburgh. I finalized the plans for the resurrection of Blaylock and must see to hiring craftsman to bring back and begin the foundation work."

The idea of building in early February perplexed Jane. Although the winter had been milder than she had expected, it was not suitable temperatures for her to imagine men working on such a structure.

"Will it not be too cold?" she managed.

Graham helped himself to heaping mouthfuls of his dinner before responding. Jane continued to pick at her wine glass in front of him. He worried for a moment that the woman wasn't eating when she finally lifted a fork and halfheartedly poked at her stewed venison.

"With my injury, I did not direct clearing the property as much as I should. Now that my staff here and those I sent to my father's estate are healed and hardy, we can begin work. It will still be long into late March before the foundation stones are set as I am intending on a significant improvement over my great-grandfather's modest home."

Jane nearly choked on her sip of wine as the man in front of her used the term modest to refer to a home no one in their right mind would have declared so. Mention of his father's home though, piqued her interest. "I forgot you did not need to live here at Starvet with me. You risked the gossip and danger to your reputation to remain here instead of moving to your father's estate?"

Graham flashed her a roguish smile revealing his dimples set handsomely against his dark features. "You might say there is nothing at Gododdin Castle to attract me there."

Still slightly shocked at the weight of knowing Mr. Hamilton planned to wed her all along, Jane tried to move the subject along to a more comfortable topic. "I confess I have never visited a castle. Though in novels they are depicted as cold, drafty dwellings."

Graham lifted a trench of bread and began soaking up the gravies remaining on his plate. "Never pictured yourself the fair Princess in the glorious fortress…" Graham laughed as he teased her a bit but Jane shook her head.

"No, I'm afraid the dreams and desires for my future were of a much more modest nature." She threw the words back at him, denoting she would've happily found the original Blaylock as an excessively acceptable home.

An errant thought crossed Jane's mind as she chewed another few bites, though her appetite had not fully returned. "After we are married, if you should like a spell of time away from this house together –"

"That is not necessary." Graham dismissed her idea of a short wedding trip to his father's castle before she could fully utter it.

Jane did not push though she felt inordinately hurt he would dismiss the idea completely out of hand. She knew their match would never be one his family was likely to relish, the second son of a duke marrying a nearly penniless woman from a small estate in England? Why to reflect on their disproportionate statuses in society, Jane once more began to feel wholly inadequate and foolish for spurning the man's original insistence they wed right away. And here he was to leave for Edinburgh at dawn and she was powerless to change his mind. Or was she?

Jane dropped her fork with a definitive clatter and interlaced her fingers to prop up her chin. With her elbows on the table, she leaned forward and stared at her Mr. Hamilton over the romantic glow of the table's candlelight.

"Would you still be set in your plans to abandon me tomorrow if I called two witnesses into this room and pronounced you to be my husband?"

Graham's eyes widened at the determined look on Miss Bennet's face and his masculine tendencies made their sentiments known on the matter right away. But he was neither a beast nor a simpleton. He knew this woman's heart so dearly wished to accept him as her husband in the manner in which she had been raised to know as proper and good in the eyes of the Lord. And he would be far less willing to see about the business of rebuilding their home once he had the delights of Jane Bennet in his bed to keep him well occupied.

And so his tongue became disloyal to his baser needs, but elevated him to the superiority of a gentleman. "If ye called two witnesses into this room and declared yourself my wife, I would dismiss them just as quickly and claim ye as my own. That I can promise ye, my lass." He allowed his promise to hang in the air causing both of them an undue amount of discomfort as they struggled to suppress their strong attraction and remain proper.

She opened her mouth to speak, but he raised a gloved hand to prevent her from casting their lots. "And once we were done, and the dawn did arrive as she is wont to do, I would feel a terrible guilt my actions and words had persuaded you to sacrifice your convictions. It has been nearly eight months since I first laid my eyes upon you and seven since I knew you to be the only woman for my castle."

He lifted both hands to remind her of her enormous charity and great work during the fire. It was she who had treated his severe burns before Dr. Simpson could be consulted. It was she who had comforted him over the death of the young child he could not save. It was she who stalked his dreams and waking thoughts like a vision of beauty to entice sailors to their deaths.

"And I shall build you a castle, Jane Bennet, one that is not drafty and cold but warm with our love and open to our friends."

Jane, however much she did not wish it, began to tear up and feel utterly overwhelmed by the sentiments of her Mr. Hamilton. She uncharacteristically pushed her chair back, not waiting to call a footman, and her sudden action forced Graham to do the same, though his task was far less comfortable. She elegantly walked around the table to him and to his surprise, stood up on her tiptoes to place a well-meant kiss upon his grisly cheek.

"The sentiments you have shared are more than any woman should ever hope to have in her possession from a man she loves. I wish nothing more than for your safe journey and that we should spend this evening in one another's company, but I fear the second part of that is too much of a challenge for us both."

She searched his face for disagreement and found none. Instead, he let out a deep sigh and his shoulders sagged. There was no arguing further time spent together might prove too much of an inducement for hasty action.

"I cannot say I enjoy living to your lofty standards, my Jane. But if it is to be my gauntlet to run, then you may count on the fortitude of a Hamilton man to come out the victor!" He grinned at his metaphor as she blushed and looked away. He did not like that, so his hand gently nudged her chin back towards him and it was not a gentle peck Graham bestowed upon her. His lips impressed upon hers his fiery passions and the anticipation of their union in such a sweet torture they were left breathless at its conclusion.

Dazed and somewhat altered, Jane began to babble that she must go and Graham released her with a similar half-considered motion. As Jane left the dining room, her feet felt light and unburdened. And as she retired to her rooms for the rest of the evening, she truly regretted there would be three long weeks of this aching need for his person that surprised her with its fierce intensity.

*****  
A/N : Is it getting hot in here? :) And in the next scene . . . a member of Graham's family arrives to shake things up.

XOXOX  
Elizabeth Ann West


	5. Chapter 5

The first week of Graham's absence washed over Jane a great melancholy and thoughtlessness to her daily tasks. A letter from her sister at Pemberley broke the monotony and despair with clear direction to begin a program of education for the Starvet House staff. After consulting with Mrs. Buchanan on the matter, a room on the ground floor near the main entrance, once a formal receiving room, was easily converted into a makeshift classroom that all of the household staff might access, yet still see to their appointed tasks around the home.

Apart from the instructional scheme, Jane held an even deeper appreciation for Mrs. Buchanan as the woman attended services in Haddington with her the previous Sunday. The show of support in Graham's absence became a treasured kindness to the younger woman playing temporary mistress of the grand home. Jane had received additional post in the form of a note when Mr. Hamilton arrived safely in Edinburgh, but no mention as to when he intended to return. Jane presumed he could not be longer than two weeks or else he might jeopardize their nuptials at the Abbey.

The first day's instructions of simple sums and the making of the alphabet letters confounded and frustrated a portion of the staff, but most took the instruction in stride. Having just dismissed the mid-morning pupils to prepare herself for a repeat of the material in the afternoon, as the house could not afford to allow all of the various footmen, grooms, maids, and other servants to attend lessons at the same time, Jane asked the maids Alice and Millie to stay behind for a moment. The two young maids stood shoulder to shoulder in solidarity but quickly curtsied to their mistress.

"I shall tell Mrs. Buchanan that I requested your presence after your lessons, but I have a matter of great importance I should like to discuss." Jane began with a smile and invited the women to sit , a gesture both found a rare consideration from people of higher status.

It was Millie who was brave enough to speak first. "We're happy to know how we might serve you better, Miss."

Jane laughed and clapped her hands together once. The women before her had been the two best helpers with little Robin and that was precisely why she could think of no better candidates for the position she now needed filled.

"Feel free to speak honestly, please. What are your thoughts on young Master Robert?" Jane watched carefully for any expressions of disgust as she laid upon the illegitimate child a title of higher status most children of his situation would never enjoy.

"Oh, Miss, little Robin be a handful at times, but he's a good-spirited lad. I think he'll grow into a very respectable gentleman under Lord Hamilton's care," Millie gushed.

Alice did not appear angry or unhappy, merely shy. But Jane knew if she might get the young maid talking, Alice would reveal where she stood on the matter.

"And Alice? Please, if you are uncomfortable discussing the boy, I understand.I have no interest in losing another staff member over confusion as to his status in this household." Jane was firm, but fair, in her tone about the subject matter of the dismissed nurse.

Alice nodded. "I suspected with ye to marry his lordship that ye'd be looking for a full time nurse for the baby. And while I loves the lad as much as Millie, here, I am afraid if I were to be the one selected, I would not have the strength to see to his needs morning, noon, and night, Miss."

Jane smiled at the honest young woman with a tall and slender frame that starkly contrasted Millie's shorter and curvier stature. The two maids were friends, according to Mrs. Buchanan when Jane spoke of this need the previous day in privacy during the trip home from church.

"You share quarters in the attics, yes?"

The maids nodded.

"Excellent! I should like to ask you to pack your things and move as swiftly as you may to the suite adjoining my room."

"We is to live on the family floor?" Millie blurted and then covered her mouth.

"Yes, I expect you both to comport yourselves with kindness to the other staff members, but you will - find a change of wardrobe in the room and may change to the calico frocks more befitting your new charge."

"We are both to be nurses? Do you have a preference to how we divide our duties, Miss?" Alice needed to understand the finer points of the new assignment as Millie merely became distracted by the promotion.

Jane admired the balance of seriousness and mirth in the pair, together they would make a good team to provide care for Robin and any new additions that came along the way. "The position pays a guinea a month," Jane paused as both women brightened at the considerable increase, "and you may speak with Mrs. Buchanan as to how you divide the work. I only ask that at no time will Master Robert suffer for being considered less than how much he is loved, nor be left to his own devices for too long when he is asleep."

"Oh, yes, Miss, we will do the best job—"

Loud voices in the hall startled the women and they quieted to hear better the cause of the interruption. Harper could be heard arguing with someone, and a lady's voice rang above his own. Jane left the jubilant maids to hurry to the entryway in a thrice.

"Harper, who do we have the pleasure of receiving this afternoon?" Jane's serene smile faltered at the sight before her. Stark white hair, frazzled and blown about in a wild manner, crowned an older, thin woman drenched in an old-fashioned gown of frayed and faded plaid.

"I am the Duchess of Hamilton. What have you done with my son to keep him from me?" The woman pointed a long bejeweled finger at Jane before she dissembled into a fit of ragged coughing, practically collapsing into Harper's arms.

 _The Duchess, but she's dead!_ Jane thought. But as Harper turned around to silently plead of his mistress, Jane pushed the thought from her mind. Duchess or no, this woman needed her care and now.

"John, Charles!" Jane called at once, "Help Harper to take this woman to the gold suite in the family wing. Hurry!" The two lads showed a strong leg and arm in assisting the butler with their guest. Two maids appeared in the doorway as Robin's cry carried from above stairs. Jane looked at the two expectantly and they rushed up the stairs alongside the men aiding their unexpected guest without a word.

Jane turned on her heel and hastened to the kitchens. Finding Mrs. Buchanan talking with Cook, Jane gave clear instructions for an infusion of lemon, cinnamon, chamomile, and mint to be taken with two thick spoonfuls of honey to the guest suite.

"We have a guest?"

"Yes, the Duchess of Hamilton," Jane said, catching her breath from the flurry of activity.

Cook dropped the pan in her hand, before stammering an apology, a movement that unnerved Jane.

"Lizzie-Mrs. Darcy," Jane quickly corrected herself, "told me Mr. Hamilton's mother was lost."

Mrs. Buchanan slowly shook her head and frowned. "Nay, though death be a kinder condition."

"Please, speak plainly, Mrs. Buchanan. His lordship is gone and I have a woman professing to be his mother above stairs in very poor condition." Jane became distracted as Cook held up three lemons from the orangery for Jane's approval for the infusion. Without a word, Jane nodded and Cook handed the fruit to a kitchenmaid for peeling.

"Come with me, Miss, and I shall tell you the tale." Mrs. Buchanan wiped her hands on her apron as she bustled past Jane to the main living floor. Her shoes made a staccato shuffling sound on the stone steps leading from the basement.

Jane had no choice but to follow, finding the older woman's pace a bit too brisk. As large at the estate was, Jane thought she might consider taking up a daily walk, as Lizzie favored, in order to increase her own endurance.

A/N When I outlined this story, I had forgotten I killed off the Duchess of Hamilton in A Summer Shame . . . in true soap opera fashion (hey, I love a great soap) I have found a way to bring a character back from the dead . . . LOL. Hmmm, I wonder what the Duchess will think of the betrothal between Jane and Graham? The plot thickens! Please leave a review, they really help me stay motivated! :) :) And a huge thank you to all of the fans of this story already!

XOXOXO  
Elizabeth Ann West


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Someone asked about Lord Hamilton vs Mr. Hamilton. Since the introduction of this character, a twin, he has always eschewed the "Lord" for Mr. when he was around Darcy. I am very deliberate in how my characters see himself and Graham is much his mother's favorite. Growing up in Scotland, he did not agree with the lifestyle of his father and brother, and those two will play more into story as we go (the overall Seasons story, not this one). I write my stories like a TV drama, they play in my mind like episodes so that is how I write them. :) Anyway, one thing I enjoy about researching the Regency period is how many issues we still struggle with today are the same issues family faced then: money problems, addiction, death, disease, children, social pressures, etc. I hope you continue to enjoy the story . . .

XOXOX  
Elizabeth Ann West

******

The post arrived shortly after Jane's interview with Mrs. Buchanan concerning the true nature of the Duchess of Hamilton. Understanding the lady's plight, Jane's resolve strengthened to help the addled, abandoned woman now resting comfortably in a guest suite above stairs. She had intended to welcome Graham's mother directly after Mrs. Buchanan's explanation, but the receipt of a thick missive, much abused from its journey from Derbyshire, delayed her plans.

Walking to the conservatory, Jane watered her potted herbs and took a seat in her favorite chair for private introspection. Sitting amongst the calming greens of the foliage reduced the pressures echoing in her head. She scowled at forgetting a letter opener, but made do with a small spade she wiped clean with the edge of her skirts. With great care, she angled the unwieldy tool and prised open the seal on her sister's letter.

Six pages of parchment fell in a thickly folded wad to her lap. Jane sat enthralled as Elizabeth Darcy detailed the incredible events of Mr. Darcy's uncle returning to Pemberley, the Fitzwilliam family retrenching, Uncle Gardiner's heroic capture of the lovestruck Colonel Fitzwilliam for Mary's benefit, and then the letter began to devastate. The truth of Lydia's demise, now known to the entire Bennet family, affected the sister who had been closest to Lydia the worst. Kitty, as she was affectionately called by her mother and sisters, manifested the pain and anger of being lied to in a most desperate act.

"Kitty," Jane whispered as Elizabeth's letter detailed the cuts and gashes Kitty inflicted upon her scalp. Shearing off her pretty brunette locks was Kitty's haphazard attempt to avoid a debut in London society according to Lizzie. But tears in Jane's eyes fell as she knew better. The grief of losing Lydia had been almost too much for Jane to bear, and she was not unforgiving of Lizzie for overlooking the other reasons why Kitty might cut her hair. Lizzie was the strong one; her emotions rarely overcame her sensibilities.

Bereft and powerless to help her family, for the first time since she decided to remain at Starvet House, Jane Bennet began to wonder if her decision was not a bit selfish? She closed the letter, unable to withstand another reading, and searched the room for some employment. Spying her gloves, she pulled them on and took to weeding the many pots and seedlings now thriving in the conservatory. The ability of the unwanted plants to find their way to her flowers and herbs routinely grated on Jane's nerves, but today it felt immensely metaphoric for the tragedies that continued to infest every corner of her family's life.

Immense regret at feeling so happy the last few weeks with Graham clouded Jane's mind. Elizabeth's letter painted a dark Christmas at Pemberley. But at Starvet House, she and Graham had danced with Mrs. Buchanan playing the piano forte and Robin clapping along. Graham presented the young man with a rocking horse he proudly carved himself, allowing Jane to further admire his lordship as a man of the land. Certainly, her exile in Scotland was not without challenges and difficulties. But by choosing to remain behind, she had irrevocably placed the charge of caring for the remaining Bennet family members in the hands of her brother, Mr. Darcy, and her sister, Elizabeth. It was the Darcys forced to yank and tug on the weeds of life springing up as they tried to sow happiness and security.

With a guttural yell she rarely allowed herself, Jane endured the loneliness and isolation amplified by Graham's absence and intelligence of her sister's horrific holiday season. Collapsing against the pot of a large rhododendron, a curious rose tree Mr. Darcy said to be from the colonies and another gift from his sea captain friend, Jane sobbed.

"Miss Benn— oh, gracious!" Mrs. Buchanan entered the conservatory to find her mistress in a heap of tears and bustled forward to assist Jane who was already rising under her own power.

"Forgive me for such a state . . ." Jane furiously flung her gloves off and wiped her face.

"Now, now, there be no need to talk like that. I came to find ye after reading my letter from Mrs. Reynolds. They had a fine kettle of fish they did at Pemberley."

Jane grimaced at the thought of the two housekeepers in Mr. Darcy's employ swapping gossip about the family. It stung. But the lifestyle of owning and running many houses naturally lended itself to a network of staff that needed to know, but not judge, the intimacies of the family they served.

"I am again apologetic you had to hear such tales about my family."

Mrs. Buchanan helped Jane with tidying the piles of weeds strewn about the floor from her fury of activity.

"There be not a great family alive without worse, don't ye fret, now. The Good Lord sends us woes and joys, and t'ain't none of us in control of the order."

Jane allowed herself a small smile at Mrs. Buchanan's quip. She did always enjoy the motherly aspect of the woman, perhaps relying on her good opinion a bit too much for a proper employer and employee relationship. But then again, Jane was not the one paying Mrs. Buchanan's wages, so perhaps the friendship was peculiar yet not harmful.

"We must always allow ourselves a good cry, I say."

Jane nodded. Inhaling deeply through her nose, she steeled her emotions. The woman Lord Hamilton proposed to marry would not disassemble over such a small matter. Kitty would recover. Perhaps, after their marriage, Jane might send for Kitty to give Lizzie and Fitzwilliam a break from playing family savior.

"My sisters are strong. And they have each other, I must remember that."

Mrs. Buchanan tentatively began speaking about the Duchess Hamilton and Jane privately cursed herself. She would not pen a response to Lizzie until after she handled the madness in Starvet House, that much she could do for her sister.

"She is still in fits?"

"I'm afraid so. 'Tis the laudanum, but I shall fetch the doctor."

Jane shook her head, furrowing her brow. It ought to be a criminal act to forsake one's wife, take a mistress in London, and leave her to a haze of medicinal demons. Jane grew up with a mother happy to enumerate her pains and ailments, but her father had always demanded not a drop of laudanum be given without great need. Jane never questioned her father, but leave it to Lizzie to ask their father directly why and she was rewarded with learning how a simple fall from a horse had forever ruined the life of their lost uncle, Thomas. Jane had never wondered whether her father was the one intended to inherit Longbourn, their ancestral home now in the hands of their wretched cousin Collins. But Lizzie had. Lizzie was curious about everything.

"We will do a far better kindness to that woman to offer her remedies from nature of a gentler sort." Jane considered the plants around her and began to list remedies that needed to be boiled down at once.

"But his lordship? Should he not be alerted? And the doctor?"

Jane frowned, it was no secret she held little respect for Dr. Simpson, still partly blaming him for casting off her nephew as a lost cause and not doing enough for Lydia in her time. While she was in control, that man would not be fetched for her guest.

"Please abide by my wishes. I shall send an express to Lord Hamilton as soon as I have seen to the comforts of his mother. And please ask Cook for cold meats and light fare as the dinner menu. The draughts are more important than a hot meal."

Mrs. Buchanan bowed her head as Jane left the conservatory. She would not say such, but the long-standing housekeeper of Starvet House admired the young lass from England, even if she knew this course of action would not be without consequences. Working quickly so she would not forget the list of herbs Miss Bennet had enumerated, Mrs. Buchanan's apron was full of sprigs in no time at all before she rushed back down to the kitchens.

*****  
A/N Don't worry, Graham will be coming home soon . . . and I don't think he's going to like Jane taking matters into her own hands, no matter how well-intentioned she is . . .


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I know I have been gone for a long time. What some may not know is I have a special needs daughter that I had to take out of public school last year for safety reasons. I was working with the school district we are in to put her back into school, with new precautions, and during those negotiations, they radically changed course wanting me to put her back and let it be dangerous/bad again before providing her with the services and protections she needs. So suddenly, I had to refile our homeschooling paperwork, develop the lesson plans for second grade, move her to year round school like her pediatrician recommends and also makes it easier on me to homeschool in smaller chunks, and have family visit, two birthdays, and I'm finally getting my "new normal" down pat. :)

Not sharing that for pity, just so everyone understand where I went. But I'm back, with a new chapter to share, and another to share tomorrow. WOOHOO!  
*****

"Where is Dr. Simpson? I did not call for you!" The raspy voice of Duchess Hamilton snapped as Jane entered the guest room with a maid carrying the tray of teas brewed especially for Graham's mother. In another time, the room was Lydia's chambers, but Jane would not allow herself to think about that. Not when another woman lay in the same bed, so desperately ill she could not comprehend the danger to herself.

Jane curtsied deeply to show her respect to her superior, then offered a bright smile she reserved for the crankiest of patients in her care, whether that had been one of her sisters or her mother when in a fit of nerves.

"I have sent a message for the doctor, Your Grace, and I suspect he shall arrive soon. In the meantime, I have taken the liberty of seeing to draughts of chamomile and cinnamon especially for your comfort."

The Duchess made a face and pulled the coverlet higher up her chest. "Bleh, I want none of your remedies, Miss . . . Miss—" The woman's mouth yapped silently as she struggled to recall Jane's name.

"Miss Bennet, at your disposal."

"I know your name!" The Duchess rolled over, her back to the open side of the bed like a petulant child. "I need my remedy, I need my remedy."

Jane clucked her tongue as she waved her hand for the maid to follow her closer to the woman's bedside. The silver on the tray clinked and Jane made a great deal of noise as she talked about and struggled to open a bottle of laudanum.

"Lacious me, this bottle is too stubborn. This cork . . . I cannot . . ." Finally wrestling the cork free, the struggle had attracted the interest of her patient, who just a moment before was pouting over the opiate she so desperately craved. Jane's hand shook as she poured the brickish brown liquid onto the spoon, making certain to overpour.

"Oh, how dreadful, I've put too much in this cup. Millie, fetch me more—" Jane held the cup in her hands but turned her attention behind to the maid.

"No! That is my regular dose, I am certain of it. When Doctor Simpson arrives, he shall tell you all, the proper manner in which to care for me." The Duchess reached greedily for the delicate china cup. Grasping the beverage, she hastily drank the draught of chamomile and lemon tea while the sleeves of her gown, a borrowed one from Jane's wardrobe, tumbled down her forearms. Dark, plum colored gouges criss-crossed her wrinkled skin with angry, red streaks as evidence of the Duchess' recent discomfort in waiting for a dose.

A brief bitterness of bile retched in Jane's throat as she felt guilty for deceiving the woman. The corked bottle in her hands held nothing more than a carmelized sugar syrup, spiked with cinnamon, to give the illusion of laudanum. But with the first fake dose administered, the Duchess did not notice. Her mind's expectation of the opiate gave her an artificial euphoria and Jane prayed the willow bark extract she added would ease the pain of withdrawal. She had only heard tales of the hours to come from Mr. Jones, an apothecary in her home county of Hertfordshire when she was a young lady first showing an interest in the still room.

"That's the faerie's kiss there now, leave me to my rest, child." The Duchess leaned back against the pillows and stared blankly up at the ceiling. After a few moments, her eyelids fluttered closed.

Jane bowed her head as the Duchess settled in and the maid closed the drapes to darken the room from the day's sun. The lady pampered and medicated for a long spell, Jane waited to be certain the Duchess fell asleep before following Millie out with the tray.

"Forgive my impertinence, but I thought we were not to drug her further?" Millie had heard from Mrs. Buchanan that Miss Bennet had ordered no laudanum was to be administered to the Duchess.

Jane closed the double doors and held her fingers to her lips, with a conspiratorial wink to the maid. "There be nothing but syrup in her tea and herbs to help her rest. She will call for more and more when she does not feel the effects she so desires, but it will only be sugar."

"And his lordship rides this way?"

Jane frowned at Millie. Truly Jane had fostered a free rapport with the staff, but being questioned by the lowly maid allowed Jane's pangs of guilt to return. She had told the staff she sent an express to Graham, but she had not. If she was to help Augusta Hamilton, Eleventh Duchess of Hamilton, she had to at least begin her plan before Graham returned from Edinburgh. Once Her Grace was well, then Jane would allow the woman to voice her own wishes for her further care.

As Jane dismissed the maid to see to Master Robin, she shuddered to think of herself locked up in some dreary castle while her husband lived a fancy life of mistresses, gambling, and politics in London. She had seen the Duke of Hamilton briefly last summer, mistakenly thinking the woman clinging to his arm to be his wife when Graham's brother, the Viscount Haddington, rescued Jane from society's displeasure directly after she spurned Mr. Bingley's offer.

Perhaps the laudanum use began by the Duchess' free will; perhaps the woman was drugged for being hysterical after the deaths of Lady Amelia and her husband and child. Either way, that woman was far from her right mind to consent for treatment at this hour and Jane knew enough of the medical arts to know even Mr. Jones would not have administered more. The Duchess of Hamilton would not die of a broken heart in Starvet House.

Reaching the new accommodations for Robert, Jane lifted her ward from his crib. The boy, still fussy from the business of gaining his teeth, settled as Jane rocked him singing a lullaby she had heard from Mrs. Buchanan. She still could not quite manage the full Scottish brogue, but the lilt to her vowels and familiar tune comforted the poor lad. She wistfully wished she had moved a bottle of whisky to the boy's room as Graham's treatment of the malady worked beyond measure.

Squinting at the bright winter sun beginning it's mid-afternoon sinking in the sky, Jane watched the shadows of various trees sway in the Scottish winds. She smiled down at the tartan plaids she now wore for skirts and remembered there were parts of the land and people she loved most dearly. And other parts, like the practice of imprisoning one's wife in the country with the assistance of an opiate, she found more dangerous than the fake parlors of polite society.

With Robin once more asleep, Jane retreated to her own rooms and considered resting herself as the night with the Duchess should prove most exhausting. Unable to shed her guilt, she hastened to the small writing desk in the corner of her room and penned a note to Graham.

 _The Duchess of Hamilton has arrived in frightful condition but she is well under my care. If your business be settled in Edinburgh, I ask that you return to Starvet House at your safest speed. A week is longer than I have ever known it to be, and I distrust the next to be shorter._

 _Your Lass,_

 _Jane Bennet_

Ringing for a stable boy to press into service, Jane estimated a rider might reach the town before dark. But she decided to instruct the rider to take a rest at an inn and deliver the express at a more moderate time of tomorrow morning. This would allow her to help the Duchess through the first day of removing the demon's licks from her body, and hopefully, the business in town would delay Graham a day or two more.

******  
A/N: Addiction was a very real plague back then just as today. It ripped families apart, but understanding was limited. More to come, and I can't wait to hear ya'll's thoughts! I read every review and really appreciate anyone taking the time to read and give feedback on my work.

XOXOXOX  
Elizabeth Ann West


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: The following scene was very difficult to write and is dedicated to anyone who has had to cull the beast of addiction from their life, or support a family member doing so.

XOXOXO  
Elizabeth Ann West

*********************

A surround of screaming woke Jane from her rest. Thrusting the covers of her bed to the side, she grabbed her robe and shrugged it on as her door burst open.

"My lady, my lady! Please, please follow me." Alice's face glistened with perspiration in the light of the candle she held. Jane's eyes had only begun to adjust to the darkness, her initial reaction a practiced movement fueled by the adrenaline of a young mother. She had even sidestepped the bassinet no longer in her room.

"Where's Robin? Is he well?"

"Tis not the babe, but Her, Her . . ." The maid stumbled in voicing the courtesy for their guest.

Jane pinched her cheeks and pushed her shoulders back. "See to Robin, make sure he is well. I will go to Her Grace."

"Yes, ma'am." Alice curtsied and left her mistress.

Moonlight illuminated the banshee tossing and turning in the elegant bed. The Duchess' face contorted and she screeched at Jane as she walked directly to the tray for more of the fake laudanum.

"You did this to me! It burns, and you care not. I demand Dr. Simpson! This instant."

Jane offered the spoon full of a straight dose, but the Duchess grabbed the bottle in her other hand.

"No, you mustn't!" Jane played her part of struggling for the bottle, but Augusta Hamilton proved surprisingly strong. She rolled away from Jane and drank a deep mouthful or two for good measure before guardedly clutching the bottle to her chest.

"Your Grace that is too much!"

"Silence, girl! You didn't give me enough last time. I told you. You may leave. I will take it from here."

Jane stared at the woman defiantly as she walked over to the far side of the room and dragged a chair to the bedside.

"I shall not. Not until you relinquish the bottle. You shall not kill yourself under my sister's roof." Wondering how lucid the woman truly was, Jane did not have to wait long.

"Tartly little thing, but no matter. Harper has already sent for the Doctor. He was just in here before you." The Duchess took another swig of the laudanum bottle and Jane could no longer enforce the ruse. If Harper indeed ran for the doctor, all would be lost.

Looking to the door and back at her patient and back at the door, Jane felt confused. She could recall Mr. Jones saying until the opiates were out of the system, you could not trust anything the man or woman said. They would do anything to get their medication. In this case, though, Augusta Hamilton thought she held laudanum in her hands, so she would say anything to get Jane to leave her with the bottle. But what if she was telling the truth as well?

Deciding the Duchess was safe with the fake bottle, Jane rose from her chair to the Duchess' cackles. She locked the door behind her and prayed she was not making a mistake.

"Harper! Harper!" Jane did not wait until she was but a few steps into the flight down before demanding the male head of household show himself. Ultimately, the unnecessary panicking led her to Mrs. Buchanan and Harper in a heated discussion at the base of the stairs.

"Miss Bennet we must send for Dr. Simpson!" Harper tried to plead as Mrs. Buchanan fussed at the man. Jane caught her breath from running down the stairs and shuddered at the eery feeling the main hallway gave in the darkness and silver light of the moon.

"No, to give her the opiate now would make all of her pain thus far for naught."

"But the doctor—"

"That doctor killed my sister and nearly my nephew!"

Mr. Harper winced, but Mrs. Buchanan's countenance remained firm. Jane took the housekeeper's expression to be a sign of stalwart support. "He will not step foot in this house again so long as I am in charge." Jane's voice cracked at the proclamation, the emotion of that night last summer threatening to overwhelm her with its echo.

"She needs her medicine. It is killing her she says. Perhaps we could send for her maid at Goddodin?" Harper's concern over a woman in agony, as the Duchess continued her wails from above, did not move his mistress' heart. Jane wouldn't be surprised if the woman had downed the entire bottle of sugar syrup.

"Mr. Harper, you may send for Her Grace's staff . . . in the morning." Mrs. Buchanan pronounced the compromise as a loud crash sounded. "And fetch Seamus and Colin. Then retire or guard the door. Miss Bennet?"

Jane nodded and lifted her skirts to turn on her heel. Mrs. Buchanan would not abandon her. The pair rushed back upstairs towards the guest suite to help placate Graham's mother. Jane unlocked the door only to slam it closed once more as an object hit the wall with another crash and the tinkling of glass upon the stone floor.

Pressing her forehead against the door, Jane sighed. "Why didn't I think to empty the room?"

"No use worrying about that now, we shall tie her to the bed if need be and remove all of the dangers now." Mrs. Buchanan brushed Jane aside and opened the door.

"My lady, you must be getting back to bed." The kind Scotswoman distracted the older, frail woman no longer in her right mind as the symptoms of withdrawal overwhelmed her Grace. Mrs. Buchanan's hands were lifted in a gentle sign of surrender, prepared for any reaction by the Duchess.

"Graham? GRAHAM!" Augusta Hamilton's eyes wandered wildly about the room and Jane stepped forward to explain.

"Your son is on his way, Duchess. All shall be well when morning dawns. Please, you must only rest and all shall be well." Perhaps if she kept repeating the refrain, the Lord would see fit to grant them peace in the morning. Jane prayed and struggled to remain calm as her body's fight or flight response begged to be heeded .

The united front of the two women appeared to convince the Duchess to get back into the bed, but the sudden appearance of the two footmen sent her over the edge. She kicked out and tried to rush towards the door, but the two men grabbed her on Jane's command.

"Release me! Release me! I need the doctor! The doctor!"

Despite a few injuries from the Duchess' flailing elbows and kicks, Jane and Mrs. Buchanan helped the footmen get her to the bed.

"We must dose her!" Seamus grunted as Jane and Mrs. Buchanan fetched scarves to lash her wrists and ankles without harming her delicate skin.

"NO!" Mrs. Buchanan and Jane shouted in unison.

After securing the Duchess into the bed, the woman stilled. Exhausted and finally feeling the fatigue of the adrenaline leaving her body, Jane sat on the edge of the bed.

"We should let her rest," Mrs. Buchanan said softly.

"I will not leave her like this. She must rid her body of the demons, but not alone. Never alone." Jane's voice spoke softly as a balm to the Duchess' soul. Silent tears fell from Augusta's eyes as Jane hushed her and gently ran her fingers through the woman's hair.

"The men can leave. But I shall stay." Mrs. Buchanan said firmly, looking to Seamus and Colin who glanced to Miss Bennet for confirmation of the order. But the eldest Bennet sister was entirely consumed with comforting Duchess Hamilton.

"Shoo now," Mrs. Buchanan walked them to the door and locked it behind them. Miss Bennet was right, this poor woman, Duchess or not, needed the care of other women. She may never be right in the head again, but it was worth a try. Thankfully, Lord Hamilton held no dominion over Starvet House to dismiss the staff should this night fail to live up to Miss Bennet's best intentions.

**********  
A/N Next two chapters are with the copyeditor. Thank you all for reading and reviewing. It means the world to me. :)

XOXOXO  
Elizabeth Ann West


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Got through the "I hate this story, it's all rubbish!" phase. :) LOL. I swear the memes you see of authors going though weird phases with their writing are all true! Just had to reread it from start to finish to get back into the "No, you are NOT the world's worst writer, now get it together and finish this thing!" :) Working on it, I promise. Here is another chapter!

XOXOXO Elizabeth Ann West

****

The night proved to be the gravest trial Jane Bennet had ever faced in her four and twenty years. Hours after the first confrontation, they had to untie the Duchess so she might retch into the chamber pot, and when dawn broke, they called for a complete change of linens. Ridding her body of the laudanum's hold caused the grand lady of Goddodin Castle to lose her faculties much like a babe in the cradle.

Six hours after the sun's rising, Mrs. Buchanan and Jane held reason to hope.

"May I have a tray of toast and tea?"

The simple request for food brought a wash of relief causing Jane to cry out in joy.

"Yes, milady, we shall see to the tray right away!" Mrs. Buchanan rose and bustled out of the room now serenely awash in the miday's brightness, the night's dark hours long in the past.

"How do you feel?" Jane asked tentatively, looking for signs of recovery in the Duchess' face. Her pupils were no longer large and unresponsive. The spark of personality appeared and, no longer were the woman's cheeks slack from the drug's hold.

"Forgive me, I have forgotten myself. How are you feeling this morning, Your Grace?" Jane tried once more realizing that the woman may not remember much of the night before, nor maybe anything from when she was under the influence of the strong opiate. A woman of Augusta Hamilton's rank would naturally ignore any untoward references to her person without additional thought from years of training to do exactly that. But still, despite Jane offering Graham's mother her due, the Duchess refused to acknowledge Jane's presence.

"Duchess, can you hear me?" Jane began to fret, perhaps there was permanent damage as the woman continued to ignore Jane's questions. Deciding two could play this game, Jane began to tell the woman all that had occurred. Perhaps she was too proud to admit a loss of memory.

"If you do not remember—"

"I remember quite clearly that you are the woman who denied me my comforts when I needed them most. And I shall never forgive your cruelty for as long as I shall live."

Jane sucked in her breath as a tray arrived with Mrs. Buchanan's bubbly personality. The housekeeper tittered away how the Duchess' maid was sent for and should arrive soon as she busied herself with opening the drapes wider. Duchess Hamilton shielded her eyes at the sharpness of the additional sunlight and Jane felt a lump in her throat begin to form.

Perhaps she had gone too far inflicting her wishes upon another, but the woman was well. She had arrived unwell and Jane had made her well. Surely Graham would see the kindness she had offered.

"I shall see to Robin and my own toilette, Mrs. Buchanan. Once Her Grace is comfortable, please make sure you see to your own needs. We both had a very long night." Jane glared at the Duchess to see if she even so much as acknowledged the sacrifice made on her behalf, but the woman sat up in the bed with nerves of cold steel. There was no flicker of remorse; no twitch of her mouth in shame.

Realizing her robe to be in a worse state than she thought, from a night of nursing a most unappreciative patient, Jane skipped seeing Robin to first pursue a change of clothes. Aches in her arms and legs caused Jane to pull her own bell cord and a new maid, Betsy, arrived to see to Jane's needs.

Wishing to take a bath, but fearful she might fall asleep in the warm water, Jane accepted a warm basin of water to cleanse her body and afterwards donned a fresh shift. Just as she was planning to rest and cast her robe to the pile of clothing to be laundered, Millie burst into Jane's room.

"Forgive me, Miss Bennet,"

"Is Robin well?"

Millie shook her head. "He has a violent fever. Alice says it be the teeth, but we are not sure what to do."

Jane sighed and pulled a powder blue day frock in the English style from her dwindling supply of gowns of the wardrobe from before she came to Scotland. Taking charge of her young nephew had ruined many a gown with memories of Hertfordshire and London woven into the seams. After Millie helped her into the gown, Jane sat to allow Betsy to fix her hair.

"Something simple, I am just too tired to pin it myself."

"Yes, ma'am."

Following Millie to the suite next door, Jane moved as in a fog. She knew the boy would be screaming, she could hear his cries through the heavy oak door in the hall. Suddenly, the weight of it all, helping the Duchess, the lack of sleep, and now a screaming baby made Jane dissemble into tears. She fluttered her hands trying to stop the watershed of emotion and stilled Millie before she opened the door.

"Oh, ma'am, ma'am!" Millie tried to comfort Jane in the hall as she furiously sniffed and willed her tears to stop.

"I am well. I am well. Go on, I shall be in directly." Jane turned away from Millie and worked harder to collect herself before facing Robin's needs.

Down the hall, a buzz of activity continued as trunks began to arrive for the Duchess. A thin, stiffly dressed woman in her mid-thirties paused in the hall to look Jane up and down. Narrowing her eyes at the woman who must be the Duchess' personal maid, Jane did not take the woman's silent challenge without response. Marching down the hall, Jane shocked the servant with her brashness.

"Are you Thatcher?" Jane recalled the name from the previous evening when the Duchess cried out for her servant in delirium.

"I am, Miss." Thatcher bowed her head almost imperceptibly to honor her hostess.

"Then I lay at your feet an opportunity to right the wrongs you have committed against your mistress."

"I beg your pardon, madam. I have served the Duchess of Hamilton with faith and unwavering loyalty these many years." The woman sneered, spying Jane growing more flustered in the hall.

"Have you served your mistress or your master? Before you step into that suite, know that not a drop of laudanum will be administered in this household. Should you defy this order and the Duchess Hamilton suddenly finds herself dosed with opiates, I will hold you personally responsible."

"Your staff has already thoroughly searched my mistress' trunks and personal effects."

"And your person?"

The lady's maid jerked her head at the threat, a sign to Jane she had not missed the mark.

"Hand it over now or I will personally escort you to my rooms for a search of your person. Or, I may call the footmen who are present in that room as we speak to conduct such an action in the hallway here."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"I do not respect servants who flout the rules of a household they enter. Now, hand over the means in which you have smuggled in the substance and I will allow you to go to your mistress and offer her what comforts you may." Jane resolved to order this Thatcher watched like a hawk as she guiltily heard a crescendo of Robin's cries from afar.

Thatcher reached into her bag and pulled out a book that when opened, conveniently showed where someone had cut into the pages a place for the dark vial. Jane not only took the book, but also seized the bag from the maid.

"That's—"

"My concern until Lord Hamilton arrives." Jane left Thatcher in the hall and walked to Robin's room, using the last reserves of energy she held. Not sure if Thatcher walked into the suite to endure her mistress' wrath, Jane cared not as she deposited the maid's bag in the corner of the room and took the very fussy Robert from his nursemaids.

"Fetch me Scotch from Mr. Hamilton's room."

"Yes, ma'am" Millie dutifully left the suite as Jane bounced and walked, trying to console the ill Robert.

"Please, please, Robin. Hush your cries," Jane pleaded with the baby who wailed and wailed. Unable to again keep her nerve, fresh tears began to fall. "There, see? Your cries have upset your Mama. And we cannot have that."

The boy could not see the despair in his aunt's face as his eyes remained squinted shut. He was beyond reason, and Jane trooped him back and forth in front of the window praying Millie would hurry.

On Jane's sixth trek, Millie opened the door and slipped in, her hands empty.

"Well?" Jane asked directly, frustrated beyond reason such a simple instruction could not be followed.

"I tried, Miss Bennet. But his room is locked. I asked Mr. Harper and was told his lordship is returned."

Jane hastily handed the crying Robin back to Alice, who looked shocked to be recommissioned into service.

"Press him with cool cloths and keep him comfortable. I shall return."

EEP! Lord Hamilton has returned . . . and let's just turn that drama knob up a bit shall we? Love to read your comments and reviews. They really, really, really help me when I am in a funk.

XOXOXOX  
Elizabeth Ann West


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Okay, I really want a real life Graham Hamilton. Pretty please? ;)

XOXOX  
Elizabeth Ann West

***

Jane Bennet sharply rapped her knuckles upon the door of Graham Hamilton's suite of rooms. How could the man have returned from Edinburgh and not come to see her first? Was that the behavior of a man madly in love? Jane pushed away the naysaying voice of reason nipping at her consciousness.

Graham's personal valet responded to produce an echoed click only a heavy oak door can make. Spying Graham fully dressed behind him and sitting casually in a chair, Jane did not wait for platitudes before barging her way into his sitting room.

"I see you are returned. Has your business been completed?" Jane's lack of sleep and aggravations bubbled to the surface as she faced the reality of her Mr. Hamilton returned from his trip. She knew it was utterly unfair of her to blame him for the worries and stresses she endured, but the emotions refused her worn attempt at control.

Graham scowled and looked Jane up and down with an expression of extreme disgust. "Would you care to explain how an Express from my mother's staff found me a full day before I met your lazy errand boy at The White Horse in Musselburgh?"

"Lazy errand boy! He is no such thing. I purposely instructed him to grant you further time before disturbing you."

"I see." Graham rose from the chair and wiped his mouth with his hand, sizing Jane up once more. "And I suppose you intend to tell me this instruction of yours had nothing to do with you playing doctor?"

The small hairs at the nape of Jane's neck prickled in rage. Had her ears heard correctly that he was unhappy with her taking on his mother's care? Still, she closed her eyes briefly and tried to remain calm. It was not ladylike to allow her anger to run away from her.

She tried another tack, attempting to avoid spelling out that the woman was far better under her care than that quack, Dr. Simpson. "Have you spoken to your mother, the Duchess?"

Graham nodded, eliciting a small scoff of indignation from Jane.

"I see," she mimicked his look of disdain back, now more angry that Graham had seen to his mother before seeing her. In fact, he had not come to see her at all!

The stocky Scotsman took three decisive steps towards the diminutive stature of Jane Bennet. His face bright red with frustration, Jane was now close enough to see the beads of perspiration pooling on his upper lip.

"How reckless are you truly, Miss Bennet? You would dare to deny a sick woman the care of Dr. Simpson –"

"Dr. Simpson is not welcome in this house," Jane said firmly, interrupting Graham.

Graham's hands waved wildly in the air as he growled and moved away from Jane. "On whose authority?"

"Mine. Do not mistake your role as a guest here, Lord Hamilton. You and your mother are free to return to your drafty castle at your earliest convenience."

Jane shivered, slightly startled as the words tumbled from her mouth before she could give them a second thought. She had never lost her reason and logic so thoroughly in front of a man as she did with Graham Hamilton. The man was an absolute menace to her good sense, and while she did not mean her words, once they were spoken they could not be unspoken.

"You cannot mean that." Graham Hamilton's voice was not much above that of a whisper and Jane realized she had found the man's vulnerability: her.

Jane swallowed and took a deep breath through her nose. "Men are so often bullies as it comes quite easily to them. And I shall never marry a bully." She waited to see if he would argue, but he remained stone silent. "Your mother wasted away, mistreated by her caregivers, arriving upon my doorstep in a crazed manner, unkempt, and without the protection of a single soul."

She waited for the truth of the situation to hit him. Still, she continued when he again refused to share his thoughts.

"I could not in good conscience continue to force a woman of no defect to live such a ghost of a life. She is lucid. She is rid of the demon's tongue." Jane finished her speech in a calmer voice, finding herself relieved by the truth as she saw it.

But Graham's anger began to pique once more. "And you had no right to take such matters into your own hands! You could have killed her!"

Jane narrowed her eyes to the slightest slit to keep herself from crying. She did not wish to dissemble in front of Graham. Her fists clenched at her sides.

"I made the best decision for the situation just like any man would! If I had been Mr. Darcy, your mother would not have had a drop of laudanum in this house. If I had been Mr. Jones, the apothecary from my home county, she also would be treated thus. And if I had been my father –" Jane's voice finally cracked. She began to tremble as memories of her father's care and love flooded her mind. It was much more difficult to remember the dead as they truly were, Mr. Bennett enjoyed a remarkable improvement in his mannerisms and parenting in death as many do in memoriam.

The visage of Jane crying broke down the last wall of anger Graham Hamilton held in his heart. His core instincts as a male of the species overrode his impassioned judgments as he rushed forward to embrace his Jane. As she cried and mumbled vague details of the ordeal, Graham merely held her tighter.

As Jane pulled back to look up at the man she had missed so deeply during his short trip, she began to feel a glimmer of hope at spotting his roguish Scottish smile.

"I shall grant you the victory that my mother is well thanks to your interference." Graham swallowed his pride in admitting that as ill-advised as Jane's care had been, the means did justify the ends.

Jane sniffed. Not wishing to use her sleeve in an unladylike way, she looked between the valet and Graham and finally the valet understood the lady's need. With stoic indifference, the servant produced a handkerchief. Jane thanked him and used the cloth as discreetly as she could.

Her bright blue eyes blinked with a new clarity to them. "May I have your Scotch?"

The question made both men in the room boom with laughter as Jane stood bewildered between them, wondering what it was that she had said they would both find so funny. She began to explain. "For the babe. I left Robin to see you. He is in much discomfort from his teeth."

Graham Hamilton wiped an errant tear due to his laughter and emotional fatigue from the corner of his eye and nodded at Jane's request. "Come, we shall see to him together." He grabbed the bottle on his sideboard by the neck and took Jane's arm to escort her down the hall.

The rancorous cries of a baby and two maids could be heard through the heavy doors as Graham opened them for his and Jane's entrance. Millie held the babe in her arms sashaying left and right as Alice held a small brown bottle in her hands and appeared to be arguing.

"We mustn't! We mustn't!" Millie implored Alice who had cornered her on the far side of the room.

"But Miss Jane brought the bag herself. I watched her. She must have intended to help Master Robert." Alice held up the bottle that Jane recognized immediately.

Struggling to find her voice she incessantly patted Graham's arm and could barely make out a whisper.

"Stop. Make them stop."

The booming voice of Lord Hamilton, Earl of Bolton, Baron Tweeddale paralyzed both maids as Robin's wails continued.

"We do not use that substance in this household." Lord Hamilton said with finality, looking to Jane for her approval.

"But the lad, he be most unhappy." Alice's face fell into a look of pure concern for the wailing child, a wisp of her ash brown bangs having escaped from her cap and lay plastered against her flustered face.

"When did the two of you last rest?" Lord Hamilton took the babe from Millie, the familiar baritone voice calmed little Robin momentarily. Jane approached Graham to take the bottle from his free hand so he might hold Robin with two, and opened the Scotch.

"Pardon us, milord, but the night twas long." Millie curtsied and Jane offered her a smile of support. It had been a very long night for the entire household between the Duchess and Robert.

"Why don't the two of you get some rest? I find myself needing some time with my boy, after spending a week away."

The sparkle and charm of Graham Hamilton could make any woman swoon, Jane thought as the two maids sighed and obeyed without even looking to Jane for permission.

"And you my dear," Graham snuck a kiss on Jane's cheek as she leaned closely to administer the alcohol to Robert's gums, "look nay a bit better."

"I am well."

"Aye, are ye now?" Graham's Scottish lilt melted Jane's reserves.

"It has been a long night."

Graham nodded, plopping down into the rocking chair with Robert in his arms. The big, burly Scotsman cared not what others might think of his affections for the baby, the Earl of Bolton began his conversation to the exclusion of Jane.

"Your mama should rest, for come Monday, I will become your pa. And with the Lord's grace, you will have a brother by Christmas. . ."

Jane's heart soared in her chest, forgetting how angry she had been with Graham just a half hour before. In all of the chaos she had nearly forgotten that come Monday they would be wed, just four days from now. Four days left of being a Bennet.

Hearing Robin settle as Graham continued to talk about hunting, and fishing, and all of the manly pursuits he planned to share with young Robert, the son of his heart, Jane realized her exhaustion had indeed returned.

"I might have a rest, if you do not mind?"

Graham's gloved fingers wiggled to bid her farewell underneath Robin's feet, but he never looked up nor took his attention from the baby. Jane breathed deeply in relief and turned around. As her lithe figure moved to leave the room, Graham Hamilton finally did look up to admire the view.

A/N: And there is your Sunday dose of hunky Scotsman, helping anyone and everyone with Outlander withdrawal. :) Love to hear your thoughts in the reviews.

XOXOXO  
Elizabeth Ann West


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Happy Saturday! I have found a way to ending this book and it will likely publish next week! WOOHOOO! It's been a rough summer for me, but I am finally seeing the light at the end of the writing tunnel! P.S. I will be changing the Duchess' name in the published version, vote in review for Aileena or Adaira! :)

*****

"I hear your reservations, Mother, but come Monday your son shall be a married man." Graham Hamilton spoke as calmly as he could beside his mother's sickbed. Duchess Augusta Hamilton debated with him in the most lucid manner he had witnessed in two years, but as his own man, he had no intention of suddenly becoming a young whelp dependent upon her permission to live his life.

"Yes, yes you shall be married to an English woman! She is amiable and downright stubborn, perhaps stubborn enough to make it in this family. But there are differences, Graemie, between her kind and ours. Are the walls of Blaylock to be torn down, the tapestries re-done in an English style befitting an elegant lass?"

Graham coughed to hide his laughter and choked for a moment as he tried to simultaneously breathe and swallow. Once he recovered, to his mother's amusement, he shook his head slowly.

"The tapestries are gone, they burned in the fire. I was in Edinburgh to arrange builders and artisans for the rebuilding when you arrived here."

The memory of the great lady remained spotty, though her pride refused to admit such a state of feebleness. Augusta Hamilton gasped at the intelligence her son conveyed. Graham frowned, this was not the first time he had spoken to his mother about the tragedy last summer, but it remained painfully obvious there would be lasting effects from the manner in which Graham was complicit in keeping her in a perpetual drugged state. In fact, as weak as she had been after Amelia's death, this handicapped version of his mother stood almost too difficult to bear. Not because she wouldn't make genuine efforts to appear unaffected, but because of his own guilt in being so instrumental in the months of monitoring that kept her in such a docile demeanor.

"I am sorry, but I have told you many times..." Graham tried to gain his mother's attentions again as she turned away. He patted her arm and she responded to the physical touch, staring down at his gloved hands.

"Your hands . . ."

"Injured in the fire."

"And now?" Augusta Hamilton narrowed her eyes at the thin leather gloves her son wore that were both distinguished looking, yet also drew attention to the fact that his hands were disfigured.

"They do not pain me any longer and Jane has asked me to wear the gloves less often."

The elder Hamilton sniffed at another mention of the name Jane.

"You must come to accept her, Mother."

"I do not. I shall not." Augusta Hamilton crossed her arms over her chest. The pouting reflected her previous protest over feeling well enough to leave her room, but yet her son ordered her to remain in bed.

"Come, come, what shall you gain from such rejection? My marriage is a time for rejoicing, and Robin—"

"That child who wails incessantly? I cannot believe you are taking on the utterly ridiculous position of a cuckold before you are even wed!"

Graham bit back a sharp rejoinder and took a moment before answering so that he might not agitate her further. "The babe is not of Jane's womb."

"Did you actually see this other sister?"

Graham nodded. He did not wish to discuss the matter further for both the sake of his own memories and to avoid triggering his mother's despair over the loss of her own daughter.

"But people say—"

"That the Duchess Hamilton is mad and locked up in her castle whilst the Duke plays in London." Graham attacked his mother's senses as his patience came to an end.

Horrified, the Duchess Hamilton pulled away from her son and made a great fuss to lay down in the bed. She stared at the wall and bit down on her lower lip to keep herself from crying. She squinted her eyes shut and inhaled deeply as Graham's voice became conciliatory.

"Mother, I am a beast. But my point is that you cannot punish my young family because the gossip mongers flap their lips." Graham sighed, feeling a surge of comfort flicker in his heart at voicing the reality of his family out loud. It was a truth; Robin and Jane were the beginnings of his line in the great Hamilton clan, the world be damned.

"I have a ward. Other families take on the unfortunate, and once I am married to Jane, he will be my nephew. Nothing improper can be made of an aunt and uncle taking in their orphaned family member."

"Do not wrap your sinful living in a cloak of decency. You were not at Goddodin with me day in and day out, you were here. How many months did you try yer bonnie lass out? You're enamored now with her and the child, but after spring comes autumn and a barren winter. You will tire of her. Just as your father tired of me."

These stinging nettles of truth came in a rush from the mouth of Augusta Hamilton. Graham Hamilton remained seated at a loss for words. He could not contradict his mother's notions about his father. Nay, even his brother hastened to follow his father in his womanizing ways. But that his mother thought him as bad as those two? That was a truth that hurt the most.

"I have seen to your welfare for over two years as they abandoned you. And now you say I am the same as father and Augustus? I suppose I too am a great disappointment." Graham stood up from his chair and paused but a moment beside his mother. She gingerly changed her position, but he was already walking toward the door.

"Graemie . . . I did not mean . . . Please do not go!"

The distinguished Earl of Bolton bowed to his mother. "I must see to the work of rebuilding Blaylock. Rest Mother, for by Monday I expect you to be well enough to attend my nuptials."

Graham left his mother before she could renew her objections over his plans to marry Jane. Tempted by the knowledge that his lady lay resting just down the hall, Graham shook his head and continued his progress to the stairs. If Robin and Jane both slept, he would take to the study and continue his letters and obligations to the bank. Rebuilding Blaylock House would not be inexpensive and he held no choice but to take a mortgage against the land for additional funds.

That was another truth he dared not share with his mother. They were her family's ancestral lands he gambled with, but there remained no alternative. He would not beg his father for funds, not that his father would at all be willing to comply. It still rankled the Duke that such a large estate remained coyly out of the marriage settlement and passed to his second son upon the death of Augusta Hamilton's father, the 5th Earl of Bolton, Graham Leslie.

*****  
A/N: Well with a sober mother, we couldn't quite expect the Hamilton family to rejoice the second son is marrying an English woman! :) Now for the sigh-worthy scene of Jane and Graham up next!


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: So I have one more scene after this to publish when the book goes live next week, I will try to do it day of, but I am traveling to Texas to visit family. This is a short novella that's just a "bonus" in the Seasons of Serendipity. And the opening scene in Book 6 will be Elizabeth Darcy receiving word her sister is married in Scotland!

*****

The study at Starvet House became Graham Hamilton's refuge shortly after the Darcys left the previous summer. While he had never told Jane she may not enter, a natural respect formed between the two of them early in their cohabitation. As he stared at the plans for the rebuilding of Blaylock, the study door opened and his lady permitted herself entrance in a highly agitated state.

"There are guards outside your mother's door to prevent me entry?" Jane had gone to rest after Graham's return with the understanding they were in agreement in regards to her care of his mother. To find herself suddenly barred from her patient, Jane Bennet felt none too pleased.

"I ordered a late supper for the evening, I'm happy to see that you have awoken." Graham ignored Jane's question and answered as if she had entered the room with a polite inquiry.

"Under whose authority have I been blocked from a suite of rooms in my sister's home?"

Graham sighed and severely disliked his position stuck firmly between the two most important women in his life. He rolled up the plans for Blaylock and placed them back inside the protective leather casing before approaching Jane. Snaking his arms around her waist, Jane made a small sound of a whimper of indignance before allowing the stress and anger to melt away within Graham's physical embrace. She rested her head against his shoulder and awaited an explanation.

"You do realize, once we are married come Monday, this shall be my sister's home as well as my brother's." Jane pulled away hearing Graham's logic but he was too quick for her. Jane could feel the imminent desire that was always so palpable between the two of them. When he claimed her lips in a kiss, a reminder that the two of them were soon to be united for all eternity, Jane began to care less and less about the grandstanding of the Duchess.

"I suppose she is too embarrassed to see me?"

Graham hummed a noncommittal response, not wishing to divulge that the matter stood more complicated than her assumption. But that explanation placated Jane and his mother, so it would suffice. Rather than lie to Jane, he merely encouraged her line of thinking.

"Would you not feel similar in the situation?"

Jane nodded and released herself from Graham's arms, this time a departure he did not fight against. She avoided his gaze by looking around the room at the various leather bound volumes on the shelves, an ornate coat of arms on the far wall that did not hold the last name Darcy but a different one. Jane wandered over to the intricate illustration and tilted her head to one side as she read the last name - Starvet.

"And what is to be our fate, Lord Hamilton?" Jane hastily glanced over her shoulder to offer Graham a cheeky smile before continuing. "I do not believe you will be whisking me off to her dreary castle, nor do I think we ought to send your mother thus on her own. Shall we all temporarily remain at Starvet?"

Jane disliked the status quo that suddenly felt confusing for her. She stood as a woman on the cusp of being married without a home to call her own. No small wonder that Graham felt such an impetus to rush to Edinburgh so construction might begin on their home as quickly as possible.

Graham lifted the leathercase of architectural plans and gently squeezed them in his gloved hand. The fire had robbed his household of a few lives that night, two adult staff and one child, a haunting loss that did not measure to the devastation possible. He might not have survived that night if not for his valet. Graham never calculated the material loss would become even more profound once he and Jane came to an understanding, yet here he breathed with a fresh test of character.

"I took the liberty of writing to Darcy before Christmas." The mention of his timeline drew Jane's attention away from the wall decorations. Seeing her surprise, Graham could only nod to acknowledge his guilt. He had planned to woo Jane Bennet for a number of months, almost upon meeting her. "With your sister's condition, there are no plans for the family to leave Pemberley before next autumn and it is my intention for a wing of the new house to be completed by that time."

Jane gave a soft smile and looked down at her feet. She felt slightly ashamed that her interests sounded so very mercenary even to her own ears. Elizabeth had emphasized to her that by running Starvet House, Jane was offering her sister a great kindness. Though the new Mrs. Darcy would be very wealthy, the two sisters agreed that such largesse was a true blessing when it might bring joy to so many. Once the Hamiltons vacated, the grand Scottish estate would almost certainly return to the great loneliness it had embodied for the last half decade before the Darcys visited on a wedding trip.

"I confess the latest letter from my sister imparted great news regarding my family. My sister Kitty has taken the knowledge of Lydia's death . . ." Jane struggled for a word to convey the incident at Christmas. She gulped and closed her eyes to finish. ". . .harshly. And it was my hope that we might send for her, after a time that is, once we are married?" Jane did so much wish to continue in her birthright as the eldest sister. She also suspected it would be a much needed step towards Kitty's recovery if she might meet little Robin and see for herself Lydia's final resting place.

"Perhaps," Graham safely tucked his plans into an empty space on the shelf closest to Jane, "by midsummer my mother would be recovered enough to enjoy the company of a young woman such as Miss Catherine."

"Oh – my sister Kitty is very spirited." Jane's words tumbled out of her mouth as she was not certain that her sister and the Duchess would be at all well-suited.

"She is the writer, no?"

Jane nodded as Graham joined her in the inspection of the Starvet's coat of arms, the maiden name of Darcy's paternal grandmother. "Then they should get along famously. My mother loves to read and tell stories. She would encourage your sister in her pursuits."

Jane pursed her lips. "That is a hefty dose of optimism considering I am barred from entering her suit."

Graham chuckled and lifted Jane's hand to his lips, lingering his kiss there longer than necessary. Monday felt far too far away for his needs. "Give her time. I hear tell there are many people in this world who improve upon one's first impression."

Jane giggled at the veiled reference to Darcy and Elizabeth's courtship. Just as she was about to share another anecdote of just how much Lizzie had hated Fitzwilliam, a knock on the door interrupted their tete-a-tete.

"Dinner is ready, sir, madam." Mrs. Buchanan beamed at the young couple, the familiar twinkle in her eye returned since the arrival of the Duchess Hamilton.

As Jane accepted Graham's escort to the dining room, she asked him in a hushed whisper, "Does she ever sleep?"

"I am not sure, but I am not brave enough to ask her." he whispered back, bringing another round of giggles from his bride-to-be.

It was not perfect, but it would suffice that Graham and his Jane were falling back into their normal routines despite the disruption of family.

Show of hands, who wants to marry Lord Hamilton? :) :) :)


	13. Chapter 13

Under the direction of Mrs. Buchanan, a great raiding of the hot houses attached to Starvet House filled the home with every bloom and blossom to be had. Outdoors the dreariness of winter reigned, but inside the mixture of flowers and evergreen boughs strewn upon every surface marked a theme of new beginnings and steadfast loyalty.

"Enough with that incessant sneezing, Bridget. For heaven's sake, find a handkerchief and do not be seen during the breakfast!"

"Yes, ma'am." The obedient Bridget curtsied to the housekeeper. In a home that entertained more, the maid would not be fit for the ground floor with her proclivity to water at the eyes and blow unsightly fluids from her nose.

"Finish up and be scarce. The village shall arrive half past the hour." Mrs. Buchanan inhaled the sweet combination of fresh pine and white rose from an arrangement atop the fireplace in the dining room. She began to walk towards the hall to the kitchens below but quickly changed her mind. With the impending wedding breakfast set in the English tradition, the day would be a capricious blend of traditions and there was but one in house with the ability to spoil it all.

Lifting her skirts to fly up the steps, Mrs. Buchanan restored her visage in a mirror in the hall and pinched her cheeks. The stress of the event had made her fair, auburn-haired framed complexion even more pronounced. But she would never say she was white with fear, there was simply no time for such notions!

After a pert knock on the door, she entered the guest suite containing the Duchess Hamilton and made her curtsy.

"Is there any comfort or nourishment I may fetch for you, Your Grace?" Mrs. Buchanan did not add that once the wedding breakfast began, there would be few maids on hand to answer Augusta Hamilton's beck and call.

"There are to be two carriages arriving from Gododin Castle. I expect them at any moment. I should like to be alerted when they arrive."

Mrs. Buchanan felt a small twinge of anxiety. Lord Hamilton's mother could not possibly plan to abandon Starvet House on the very day of his nuptials? Such a development would indeed spoil the best day in many a memory and could not be borne!

"Your Grace? Are there any further instructions in regards to the carriages?" Mrs. Buchanan gulped and attempted to learn the duchesses plans before playing accomplice.

"I'm afraid not. But I expect to be informed, is that clear?"

"Ye-yes, Your Grace." Mrs. Buchanan hurried from the suite of rooms with another challenge upon her shoulders and less time than ever to meet them all. Bustling down the stairs, she barked at a group of footmen and maids lolly-gagging over the chore of decorating. The jubilation of the wedding filled the house with such warmth and joy, even Mrs. Buchanan could not be truly cross with her staff. From ceiling to floor, every surface gleamed. The centuries old Scottish homestead would remind the village of the great families who once called Starvet their primary home.

In the hall, Mrs. Buchanan found the butler Mr. Harper and as she tried to discuss the impending arrival of the Gododin carriages, young Seamus interrupted to say they had just arrived. As Mrs. Buchanan stomped her foot in indignation, the young footman whispered into Mr. Harper's ear at the butler's insistence for more information.

"Lord in Heaven, we cannot let her leave without his Lordship's approval! That woman be crafty beyond measure to plan such an escape during the wedding." Mrs. Buchanan struggled to remain civil in her criticism of the great lady, but to her the only great persons deserving respect in the household were Miss Jane and his Lordship. It was they who were christened such by her master and mistress, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy.

Mr. Harper raised a brow at Mrs. Buchanan's talk of escaping. He cleared his throat. "The carriages be full of trunks. Parcels and boxes laden with what appears to be fabrics and personal effects of Her Grace."

"You mean she's staying?" Mrs. Buchanan's hand fluttered over her chest as her weathered face turned to allow a glance upstairs. She muttered a brief prayer of thanks before giving instruction to the butler. "Set Colin and William to the task as well. They're only standing about in the drawing room paying too much attention to Sally and Fiona." Mrs. Buchanan began to walk away when Mr. Harper stopped her. Attending to the kitchens was the last check on her list of preparations to oversee and the delay was met with a stern gaze.

"And where should you like for me to put the gifts?" Mr. Harper asked. Though he was, in fact, the head of all Starvet House staff, he knew better than to make a decision as to the location of items in the home without consulting Mrs. Buchanan. At least, he knew better than to do such a thing unless he wished to double his workload by moving said items to their proper location at a later time.

"Gifts?" Mrs. Buchanan's heart threatened to burst at the good news of the Duchess' acceptance for her mistress, Miss Jane. "Are you certain they are gifts and not personal items of Duchess Hamilton?"

Mr. Harper shook his head and smoothed his vest down over his round belly. "The Gododin driver was quite clear the first carriage's contents were to be taken directly to the Duchess, but the second…"

Mrs. Buchanan's expression of surprise and loss of interest in what Mr. Harper had to say infuriated the man so that he stopped talking. But as he turned to look behind him to see what it was the housekeeper saw, his mouth began to quiver before he recovered good regulation over his lower jaw bone. "Your Grace! How might we be of service?"

The bejeweled grand lady of one of the area's most ancient families descended the last of the stairs with a regal air. Long gone was the crazed, malnourished and confused woman who appeared on the stone steps of the house less than a fortnight ago.

"I should have expected to be told of my carriages' arrival as I asked. As the staff here is inept, I have come down to oversee the unloading myself."

"That is not necessary, Your Grace. Mr. Harper and I were just alerted of the arrival and were discussing where best to display your great generosity." Mrs. Buchanan attempted to reason with the woman, still nervous that all her faculties might not be fully recovered from the terrible night the housekeeper had witnessed personally.

"I should like the front parlor. As the guests arrive, I wish to stand and greet them in the receiving line that his Lordship and Lady Hamilton might join."

Mrs. Buchanan drew in her breath at the first proclamation of Miss Jane's new title. Tears welled in her eyes as the emotional toll settled about her as a heavy cloak. The wild ride to a happy ending for the lovely miss who dared to call Scotland her home had worried the housekeeper more than she'd been willing to admit.

"Indeed." Mrs. Buchanan sniffed to regain her composure. "Lady Hamilton and your son will be most pleased!"

Thankfully, there was not long to wait as a raucous crowd could be heard outside as the entire village promenaded with the happy couple from over the kill lining the beginning of the drive up to the great house. Streams of ribbon, the unmistakable strain of bagpipes, and joyous singing carried the inhabitants from the small hamlet of Haddington right up to the front doors. Mrs. Buchanan managed to excuse herself to check on the kitchen staff, but it was for naught. The footmen were arranging the last of the silver trays of the best sweetmeats, breads, and pickled vegetables the kitchens had to offer plus an entire table of candies, bannocks, and gingered fruit peelings.

A swell of good cheer filled the entryway of the main house as Lord Hamilton left his bonnie bride to embrace the hands of his mother, a broad grin giving his handsome face the appearance of borrowed youth.

"My een cannot be seeing this!" The abounding happiness of being at last a husband affected Graham Hamilton's good manners in a roguish way.

"Tis no call for vulgarity. To marry is to halve your rights and double your duty." Duchess Hamilton feigned indifference to the monumental change displayed by not only her gifts for the happy couple, but also her presence in welcoming their friends and well-wishers.

"Aye, and let it be my duty to introduce my small family. Mother, please accept my wife, Lady Jane Hamilton, Countess Bolton, Baroness Tweeddale. And our ward, Master Robert Wickham.

Aileena Hamilton's eyes flicked to the babe in a maid's arms, swaddled for the cold weather with a silver luckenbooth holding the folds of a tartan pattern popular amongst the Hamilton Clan. The boy favored his aunt but for his dark curls, and the Duchess thought those must be the contribution of the child's father. The nursemaid lifted the baby as if to offer the child to his grandmother, but Aileena Hamilton tsked her tongue and Alice swiftly drew the babe closer to her own chest.

"Duchess Hamilton, it is an honor and a privilege to have you bless our wedding breakfast." Jane Hamilton broke protocol of the drawing rooms of London by addressing her better first, but her annoyance at Robin's rejection pierced as a burr in her stocking. It chafed and stung.

"Your gown is very lovely. I appreciate that you have honored the Hamilton Clan's hunter green in your tartan." Duchess Hamilton paid a compliment to attempt another reconciliation and for now, it was enough.

Jane politely excused herself to freshen up after the last of the villagers were greeted and escorted to the food platters. This left Graham and his mother alone for a few moments.

"Did you need to avoid little Robin, Mother?" Graham maintained a jolly expression as he nodded and accepted the continual toasts and bouts of ribbing from the men of the village.

"You ask too much, Graemie. I am doing my best to make an effort. Will you not look to see how far I have come instead of dwelling on the distance I have yet to travel?"

"The deed is done, Mother. My family is secure. I advise you to get what you can and keep what you have." The younger Hamilton turned another proverb on his mother to gently remind her that his sister and her child were gone, never to be recovered. But in him and Jane she might have more to love and live for, if only she might accept his ward.

"And time shall ease my stubbornness. Look at the miracle a week has made!" The Duchess began to sound like her old self, laughing at her own faults, mixing her covert conversation with her son with louder, welcoming talk with the villagers who stood in awe of the formidable woman from Gododin Castle.

With the large party sated and satisfied, the pipers and other musicians took up their trade and the merry morning church attendees spilled into the cleared drawing room for reel after reel. Jane positively glowed in a slightly altered dress to remove some of the more ornate jewelry and adornments honoring Graham's many titles. She took her husband's hand firmly with each opportunity to spin and twirl to the music's feverish pitch. If his lordship pulled his lass a tad tighter to his person than the couples around them, there was none too sober to make a fuss.

After seeing them to their first dance and second, Aileena Hamilton let it be known that she had taxed her health and needed to rest. She quietly abandoned the revelry to move above stairs to her suite of rooms, but when she reached the landing, her feet carried her in a different direction. She heard voices on the opposite side of the great white door, the two nursemaids she knew to be the child's caregivers. As the door creaked open, the two maids stopped their quarreling and perked up expecting Lady Jane or Lord Graham, but appeared crestfallen to find it was the Duchess.

However, after a curtsy, both Alice and Millie swiftly recovered to inquire as to how they might be of service.

Duchess Hamilton pointed to the bassinet. "Is he asleep?" she asked, though the boy's muffled cries of discontent could clearly be heard.

"No, Your Grace."

Aileena's eyes traveled around the room to take in the well-fitted nursery. The furniture was much the same as Gododin, bringing back painful memories of rocking her grandchild before . . .

"Do you mind?" The Duchess asked, but had already begun to approach the babe. Alice opened her mouth to speak, but Millie elbowed her in the ribs.

"Of course not, Your Grace." Millie moved to stand slightly in front of her counterpart, but being a good head shorter than Alice, the faux pas remained revealed.

Standing beside the bassinet, Aileena Hamilton leaned over and smiled at the young lad who rewarded the new face with his slobbery, one-tooth grin and deep dimples.

"You are the charmer, aren't you, there boy?" Aileen's thin, frail hands lifted the young man out of his cradle. She cradled him close and soft stepped to the sunlight on the far side of the room. After raising three boys and one daughter to adulthood and then three more children to the years the Good Lord gave them, the natural sway of all mothers returned to her gait as the baby gurgled and cooed to show he was pleased.

"I cannot say that I appreciate your howling, but this behavior I can approve. Yes, child, this behavior I can heartily approve." Aileena laughed at herself as she touched her nose to Master Robin's, a game she had played with her children from the moment they each arrived. The boy seemed to know the game well and closed his eyes in anticipation only to freshly giggle again at the nudge.

The appearance of peace and calm settled decidedly in Aileena's breast and for the first time since she rose that morning, she inhaled as deeply as her lungs might allow. Sidestepping to the rocking chair, she gingerly began to sit down, appreciative that the girl they called Millie rushed forward to steady the chair so that she might not fall.

"Thank you, you may leave us."

At this edict, Millie hesitated. "I'm afraid— that is . . ."

"Do you suspect I shall harm this docile, innocent creature?"

"No, of course not, but our instructions come from his lordship, and we should be in a great deal of trouble, Your Grace, if we leave our post for any reason." Millie's voice practically whined the last bit, not wishing to cause trouble on either front, but truly they could not leave.

"Well one of you should get some sleep. I can promise the Master and Mistress will not be eager for any interruption tonight!" The prim and proper lady pursed her lips to keep herself from laughing at the innuendo she made that put both maids in a high state of discomfort. Watching the love match between her sona nd this child's aunt, from the dancing to the fierce loyalty they seemed to give one another, her son was correct. It would not be long, Lord willing, before a brood of children again called her Nanna.

And so it began, the first evening of a completed family took its residence in a borrowed house. The lodgings temporary until the restoration of Blaylock House, but the bonds forged in those tumultuous few weeks cemented the new Hamilton Clan as strong and fierce as their branches from long ago. And though she had planned to write to her sister at Pemberley the very afternoon of her wedding, Lady Jane Hamilton, Countess of Bolton, Baronness of Tweedale, simply could not find the time to do so for a number of weeks. It came to pass that her new husband was most insistent of her attentions not only at night when they could slumber safely in each other's arms, but also in the light of day when they might shirk their duties for the briefest moments. More than a year since losing her father and many months since losing her sister, the former Jane Bennet chose to count her blessings - including the one that meant she would not hear her mother's effusions upon learning her daughter had married the son of a Duke!

Fin.

There we go a short little romantic story for Jane Bennet, ahem, Lady Hamilton! The next story in the Seasons of Serendipity will be A Spring Society that follows what's happening with the rest of the family in Derbyshire. Thank you SOOO much to everyone who followed this story from beginning to end. If you want an edited, final version the ebook is now available on Amazon, Nook, Kobo, and Google Play. I can't publish on iBooks until I get home later this week. Yes, I am a machine, I was working on vacation, shhhhh don't tell hubby ;). Hugs to everyone, and viva la Austen!

XOXOXOXOX  
Elizabeth Ann West


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